In the Line of Fire
by RRatedauthor
Summary: James Lawson is a man with a past... what happens when that past comes back with a vengeance? The much anticipated sequel to "Crossfire", written with redsandman99.
1. Sick, Burn!

From the twisted minds that brought you "Crossfire", we present the much-anticipated sequel!

***

"Yo, Jeffro... why are you setting four places for dinner?" Tom yawned, listlessly leafing through a recent issue of National Geographic.

"Didn't I tell you Connor and Cooper are comin' over for dinner?"

Tom looked over at Jeff, a _What the fuck!_ Expression on his face for a moment, but he quickly covered it. "Oh," he answered, trying to sound like it didn't bother him. "Should I have bought more beer?"

"I already took care o' that. I just need you to warm up the barbecue." Jeff smiled sweetly.

"Yes, honey-bunny." A quick peck on the cheek in passing, then Tom was outside getting the grill ready.

Jeff hummed happily while he started pounding his meat... for the hamburgers, you perverts!

"Why are we of all people having the misfit brothers over for dinner?" Tom called through the open window.

"Marky asked me if I'd mind," Jeff answered

Tom's brow creased. "When did you have time to talk to Mark?"

"Last week," Jeff stated. "He called and asked if I could get the boys out of his hair for a night and I said yes."

"Don't they have a home of their own?" Tom asked, back inside now that the grill was warming up. He headed for the bar, knowing that if he was going to survive the night, sobriety might be a bad idea.

"I know you don't like me hangin' out with those two, but it's been three months. Dontcha think it's time to forgive and forget?"

"Forgive, yes, but it's very hard to forget this." Tom pulled the collar of his button-down away to show the faded scar on that side of his neck.

"Tommers, pwweeease. Just be nice to them... for me?"

"Don't worry Jeffers. As long as you keep your pants on, I will make every effort to be civil." Tom looked at his glass, which had mysteriously emptied. "Now I think this glass has a hole in it. I'll be right back."

Across town, Mark was frying two of the biggest slabs of meat he'd ever seen, the respective sex organs of himself and Mr. Lawson excluded, on his own back grill. Today marked the twenty-eighth anniversary of the day they'd first fucked on James' bed and Mark wanted to make it special. Not that James would care a whole lot. They'd probably end up doing what they usually did... eat, drink, fight, and fuck, though not always in that order. Sending Connor and Cooper to Jeff's for dinner wasn't the best idea he'd had recently, but he didn't want the night to be ruined by any arguments that wouldn't lead to him having sweaty sex with James.

Now if only James would arrive back from his beer run. Mark looked at his watch again. _What takin' that fucker so long? He'd better not have decided to skip out on tonight or I'll rip his lips off his sneering face!_

...

"Do we hafta go there for dinner? Why can't we just kill someone?" Connor whined

"'Coz Mark wants us outta his hair for a night." Cooper replied. Mark's exact quote was somewhere along the lines of "I wanna fuck James for our anniversary and I will not listen to you two doing commentary like last time."

"But..."

"Shut up and play with Snoopy." Cooper focused on the road.

Connor scratched Snoopy's ears. The puppy barked softly.

"I know. I don't wanna do this either." Connor said

"If it makes you feel any better neither do I, but I guess Mark is still friends with those two, though fuck me if I know why." Cooper sighed, hoping that maybe once this torture was over, he could go out and bond with Connor over a good kill.

"We can say we had car trouble and..."

"Too late. We're here."

"Fuck," Connor cursed.

"At least you have that dog of yours to play with," Cooper muttered as they got out of the car and went up to the front door.

"Well, can I at least kick his door down?" Connor begged.

"No!" Cooper barked. "Tonight we are going to behave like adults for once. Mark and Dad brought us into this world, and I'm sure that if we do anything to prevent Mark from getting ass tonight, he'd been more than happy to take us out just as fast."

"Like he could," Connor scoffed

"I'm sure he'd love to try. And you know Dad, if he's had a few drinks, he'll join in," Cooper stated

The door suddenly swung open, leaving Cooper with his hand in the air.

"You two boys gonna stand out there arguin' all night or come on in?" Tom demanded.

"We were just gonna kick the door down and trash the place," Connor replied

Tom nodded. "I guess it could use some redecorating. Maybe next time."

Connor looked at Cooper. This was not the reaction he'd been expecting.

"Don't mind him. He gets a little pissy when he hasn't had any for a while." Cooper added for Tom's benefit.

"I have too!" Connor whined

"Snoopy doesn't count."

At the mention of his name, Snoopy barked, straining on his leash.

"He housebroken?" Tom asked as Connor denied doing anything dirty with his precious dog.

"Yeah."

"Good." Tom whistled loudly and Lizzie trotted into the living room. She stopped when she saw Snoopy. She gave Tom an inquisitive look.

"Keep Snoopy outta trouble, okay?" Tom scratched behind Lizzie's ears. She barked affirmatively, then walked over to Snoopy and sniffed him. Snoopy sniffed her right back.

"Jeffro, company's here." Tom shouted, watching the two dogs get acquainted.

Cooper's jaw dropped when Jeff came out in a tight black t-shirt and faded jeans. Since the incident, James had forbidden either of them from watching any wrestling. Just the thought of anyone with the last name Hardy was enough to trigger one of his psycho rages. Cooper suffered the most from the new order since Connor didn't seem to give a shit one way or the other.

"H-h-hi." He stuttered, his complexion reddening. Connor laughed.

Tom stared from Cooper's embarrassment to Jeff, then to the two dogs who were still getting acquainted, then back to Connor who was laughing loudly. This is gonna be one interesting night.

……..

Mark is going to kill me, James thought to himself as he put the case of beer into the car and then looked around to see if the coast was clear. It was, so he quickly slipped into the alley, following a large, three hundred pound man. He was supposed to be getting home so he and Mark could celebrate their anniversary, but on his way out of the store, he had seen the guy he was currently hunting. Now honestly, he should have just let the guy go because he was late enough as it was. But with that disgusting bulging stomach and gray, walrus-like mustache, the guy looked too much like his father to resist killing him. Does this say anything about my parental issues? I don't think this is healthy…oh well, who gives a fucking shit? It's not like it matters anyway.

Seeing that the side door of a restaurant that had closed down years ago was readily available, James made his move. Moving way too quickly and quietly for a guy his size, he wrapped one of his arms around his victim's throat and used his free hand to open up the door so he could go into the empty building. He shoved the Joseph look-alike inside roughly, only taking the time to go in himself and shut the door behind him. The man in front of him got up to his feet and started to say something but James drove the blade of his knife into the guy's chest and moved it upwards. The guy let out a short, pained yell, before looking up at James with watery, dumb eyes. A few gurgling sounds escaped him as he started to drown in his own blood. James yanked his knife back out and watched the guy die right in front of his eyes. Hell, this fucker even sounded like Joseph. This was way too weird.

"Wow, you didn't even stop to play with him. I was hoping to see a little more out of you James. I mean, I did go to all this trouble of finding him for you."

James turned around so fast that his own momentum almost made him lose his balance. A man he had never seen before was standing near the door. What little light that was coming through the windows showed this guy to be a good six or seven inches shorter than James was and at least a hundred pounds lighter. "Who the fuck are you?" James asked, getting the most obvious question out of the way. He hadn't seen or heard this guy come in, which was a little freaky because he usually didn't miss things like that. It doesn't matter. I've got the knife and that'll be enough. The only thing this fucker is going to be is dead.

The guy looked at him in amusement. "You don't recognize me? Oh come on, you have to recognize me. I am a brother of sorts to you."

James cocked an eyebrow. "Okay, you've either got me confused with someone else or you're completely nuts because I only had—"

"One actual brother, I know," the guy interrupted. "Forgive me, I used the wrong word. What I should have said was brethren." The guy reached into his pocket and pulled out a small picture. "Tell me Mr. Lawson, do you know these two people?"

James didn't even really look at the picture. What he was more concerned with was the fact that this guy not only knew his first and last name, but he knew that he had a brother. Jacob was a person that James wasn't even sure the boys knew about. Unless this person lived in his neighborhood in Las Vegas when he had been a teenager, then there shouldn't have been any way that this guy knew about his brother.

The man smiled and put the picture back in his pocket. "Okay, it's too soon for that. We'll get to that later." He clapped his hands together. "So how have you been James? It's been…oh gosh, I have to say thirteen years since I've last seen you face to face."

James tilted his head to the side. He was trying to remember if he had ever met this guy before. So far, he had absolutely no clue who this guy was, much less an answer to his other question.

The guy just smiled some more. "The name's Patrick Wolfe. And no, you haven't actually met me. But I've met you. It wasn't official or anything, but I've seen you a thousand times since I was seven years old. Sure, it was mostly in my head, but I have been watching you from a distance for oh, I don't know….six months now or so."

James gripped his knife tightly. Okay, he had a stalker. That was creepy, but nothing he couldn't handle. "Six months huh? Have you had nothing else better to do for all that time? Don't you have a girlfriend or boyfriend or a goat to fuck and spend time with?"

Patrick shook his head. "I'm not one for company."

"What the fuck does that mean? Are you one of those dweebs who lives in their parents' basement and jacks off to Internet porn? Because you can just back the fuck away from me if you are."

For the first time, an actual emotion seemed to cross Patrick's face. It was a one of boiling anger. "My parents are dead. YOU killed them thirteen years ago."

Occupational hazard of being a serial killer number 6: Vengeful relatives. James shook his head, not feeling a damn bit guilty about this guy's little sob story. "And so you spent half a year stalking me to what? Kill me?" He snorted. "If you think that you're leaving this building alive, then you've got another thing coming."

That stupid fucking smile reappeared on Patrick's face. "You sound very sure of that. Are you aware that pride comes before the fall?"

"Are you aware that you're boring the shit out of me?" James replied. "And are you aware that your parents are probably looking up at you from hell and laughing at your pathetic attempts at getting revenge?"

Patrick chuckled. "Are you trying to provoke me James? Because that's cute. It really is. The fact is, revenge isn't my only motive of being here right now. I'm here to confront you for turning me into the monster I am today."

James was about to ask what the fuck that meant but it clicked before the first sound could leave his mouth. He looked into Patrick's eyes and saw something very familiar about the man. It wasn't because he remembered seeing him from the day he apparently killed his parents. No, what he saw in this guy's eyes was a look that both he and Mark had worn on numerous occasions. This wasn't a desperate man looking for revenge. This was a cold blooded killer who knew exactly what he was getting into when he got James alone.

The moment that all the pieces came together for James, Patrick lunged at him. James automatically went to stab him, but Patrick hit the ground and all James got was air. Patrick immediately kicked him in the knee, causing him to drop down to one leg. The other one was almost swept out from under him, but he managed to avoid that disaster and grab the smaller man by the neck. He went for the kill again, but when Patrick had dropped down to the floor, he had been discreetly taking something out of his pocket. Now the bad news was, it was pepper spray. And the worst news was, he didn't find that out until it was sprayed right in his eyes. It burned like hell, and he could do nothing as he was kicked in the chest except for fall backwards.

"Did you honestly think I haven't prepared for this day?" Patrick asked, kicking the knife out of James's hand as he did so. "I've watched you fight hundreds of times. You're all brute strength Lawson. That's how you usually get what you want. If someone can match you on that or outsmart you, you're usually relying on a lucky break or your precious Marky to save your ass."

Luck huh? James thought as he tried to roll and rub his eyes clean at the same time. Fuck luck. I don't need it to rip his fucking head off. He stumbled back up to his feet, able to see some blurry shapes in front of him now. His ripping Patrick's head off was good in theory, but first he needed to fucking get his hands on the mother fucker.

A blast of electricity hit James right in the lower part of his back, taking him back down. He let out a feral yell and kicked at Patrick as he was tasered again. This was getting fucking upsetting. Kicking harder than ever, his foot managed to connect with Patrick's face. Patrick stumbled back and dropped the taser. James grabbed it and used it against his attacker once before pulling the fucker down and wrapping his hands around his neck. He squeezed hard, doing what he could to choke the life out of this man. The panic that entered most people's eyes at this point never entered Patrick's cold eyes though. In fact, it almost looked like he was trying too hard to look afraid.

Something sharp pricked James's neck, but he was so focused on strangling Patrick that he didn't even fully register it until his whole body suddenly felt weak and heavy at the same time. His grip on Patrick's neck slackened immediately, and as hard as he tried to maintain control, Patrick easily pushed him off and got up to his feet.

"You might as well stop trying to fight it," Patrick said in a pleasant voice. If one were to just listen to him right now, it would have seemed that he and James hadn't just had a fight right then and there. "It's an elephant tranquilizer." He pulled the dart out of James's neck and rubbed his throat. "You see Lawson, I'm a man who likes order and control. You, being the savage beast you are, make that pretty much impossible. So while it's not exactly fair, I had to resort to drastic measures.

James growled and tried to fight his way back up to his feet. He failed miserably though. "Mother…fucker…" he mumbled, not liking this fucking helpless state he was in. He had to get himself out of this. There had to be a way to do it…if only his brain wasn't currently turning into useless mush at the moment.

"It sucks doesn't it?" Patrick asked. He walked over towards the door and picked up a lead pipe. "Being helpless like this…I was helpless once. When you broke into my house and took my parents away from me, I had to hide and do nothing because I was a good boy and when they told me to hide, I did what they said." He chuckled insanely. "I always did what I was told until after that night. But once you left, nothing was the same. My world didn't make sense. And then, when I was sixteen, I was finally fully infected from your sickness. I killed my adoptive family and burned the house to the ground. And ever since then, I haven't been able to control these urges." He moved so that he was standing directly over James, the pipe clutched so tightly in his hands that his knuckles were turning white. "Part of me wants to thank you. I do enjoy what I do. But I mostly just hate you because I'm not the one in charge anymore. The monster you created is."

James could do nothing to defend himself as Patrick began beating him with the pipe. His face, his chest, his stomach, arms, legs—anything that was within reach was hit as hard as possible. The pain that shot through him was agonizing, and after a few knocks to the head, he felt himself starting to slip into unconsciousness.

"Oh no, don't do that," Patrick said. He threw the pipe down to the ground and slapped James across the face a couple of times. "Don't pass out on me now James. We haven't even gotten to the fun part yet." He pulled a knife of his own out of his pocket. "Now see, I could and should kill you right here and now but where's the fun in that? No, I'm going to play a special game with you. Connor, Cooper, Mark—they're all going to be involved in this too. I'm going to get each and every single one of them one by one, and all you're going to do is stand by and watch it. And every single one of their deaths is going to be on your head."

James tried to stop focusing on how fucking weak and sick he felt and tried to tell Patrick to stay the fuck away from his family, but he didn't even really have the energy to move his lips. His eyes started rolling around inside his head, and he felt himself beginning to pass out. Before he could do that though, he felt a terrible pain right into his side.

"Don't worry, I didn't hit any major organs," Patrick said, patting James on the head like he was a small child or something. "I said I wanted you alive, remember? I just felt like you should have a small taste of what exactly you've been doing for all these years."

James just sighed and began drifting into the comforting blackness that was overtaking him. The last thing he was aware of before he passed out completely was the fact that his cell phone was beginning to ring. Mark…has to be Mark…


	2. When You Play With Matches

"So James won't let you watch wrestling anymore? Imma talk to him 'bout that," Jeff pouted.

"The fuck you are, husband of mine," Tom retorted. "You remember what happened last time you got involved with that psycho..."

"Hey!" Connor shouted "Dad is not a... oh wait a second."

"I rest my case." Tom raised his glass and realized it was empty. "Damn these fuckin' glasses. Every one of them's got a hole in it tonight... anyone else wanna 'nother drink?"

"Ooh! Ooh! Me!" Jeff waved his hand in the air frantically.

"That's two... you boys good or what?"

"Why the fuck not?" It was probably the liquor, but Cooper was actually starting to enjoy himself. Connor was more concerned that he hadn't seen Snoopy since he and Lizzie had wandered off soon after their arrival.

"I dunno. You promised that we wouldn't hafta stay long," He whined.

"What I told ya was that as soon as Mark calls, we'll get the fuck outta here." Cooper answered.

"When's that gonna be?" Connor sulked.

"As soon as he's done talking to the cops."

"Cops?" Tom asked, returning with several bottles of strong beer which he distributed around the table. "What'd James do now?"

"Scary fuckin' thought, but nothin' I know of," Cooper answered, tearing the cap from the bottle with his teeth. "They're just really loud when they fuck and the idiots who live next door can't seem to believe that someone isn't getting killed."

"I can believe that... 'scuse me." Tom rose from the table when his phone vibrated in his pocket. "Yeah?"

"So why won't Jamesy let you watch wrestling any more?" Jeff asked.

"I don't think he wants to even think about what went on between the three of you. He tends to brood a lot when that happens." Cooper answered

"I never watched that fake shit anyway, so what do I care?" Connor added. "I like the ultimate fighting thingamagig." He started punching the air while making "Pow pow pow!" sound effects.

"No reason to. Imma never wrestle again." Jeff said, sadly staring at the table top. He was ignoring Connor in regards to that last part.

If he only knew... Cooper lazily thought, momentarily losing himself in Jeff's eyes, like his father had all those months ago.

"...soon do they want to do this thing? And have they even talked to Mark about coming back at all?" Tom walked back into the room, still talking on the phone, and grabbed his beer off the table.

Tom grimaced, holding the phone away from his ear while whomever was on the other end of the line said something really loud.

"From the little bit I heard, J.R. fired Mark right after my accident. So, maybe you should talk to Mark and offer the big bad 'Taker his job back before you start asking me when I want to return to the ring." Tom shook his head, then swigged deeply. "I told you I'm good to go, but if there's nothing good for me to do, then I'll probably stick to what I'm doing; thank-you very much."

"Whozzat?" Jeff asked.

"Shane McMahon." Tom mouthed "Moron," he added.

Jeff giggled.

"I"ll stop by tomorrow and we can talk about this, okay. You did catch me at a bad time... having dinner with my husband and two of our... er, his... uh, friends?" Tom shrugged.

With a loud sigh, Tom closed his phone. "Fuckin' moron," he repeated, then became aware that both Connor and Cooper were staring at him.

"Friends?" Connor asked

"It sounded better than I'm having dinner with the spawn of the son-of-a-bitch who slit my throat," Tom replied

"I don't think Shane-O Mac likes you much." Jeff giggled again.

"He can take a fuckin' number." Tom chugged the rest of his beer. "Stephanie's already pissed off at me."

"Steph? Why?" Jeff asked. This was news to him.

"In her exact words: I gave you time off to fix your marriage, not to almost get killed!"

"She's just pissed that you ain't making her even richer." Jeff reached for his bottle, but found it empty. "Imma no beer!" he whined

"Well, get another one. I'm not your slave!" Tom retorted

"Pwease..." Jeff pouted

Tom rolled his eyes. _I really wish he wouldn't do that when we have guests._ He muttered silently, but nevertheless got his man another cold bottle of the desired beverage.

Surprisingly silent all night, Lizzie and Snoopy finally made return appearances, pawing at the back door to be let out.

"Lizzie need to go poopies?" Jeff sang. Lizzie barked affirmatively.

"Looks like that mutt o' yours needs to go out too." Tom retorted, pointing at Snoopy.

"C'mon, Connor, let's go outside and play with our doggies. Lizzie, walkies?"

"I guess that means we're doing dishes," Tom said to Cooper.

"Fuck. Why the fuck do I hafta do housework? This ain't even my fuckin' house." Cooper complained.

"You don't do any at our house either, so stop with the whining shit." Connor yelled.

"Me stop whining? You're the king of the whiners! Daddy, Cooper's being mean! Daddy, we don't have cookies! Daddy, I'm a total idiot!" Cooper mocked, intentionally taunting his younger brother.

"Jeff! Cooper's being mean!" Connor whimpered, proving his older brother's point.

"Cooper shut up," Jeff said. He put his arm around Connor. "Come on, let's just go outside. Mean old Cooper can stay in here with Tommy."

"Have fun you two." Tom laughed, watching them go out. Then he walked over to the bar and unlocked one of the drawers. "Don't tell Jeff." He pulled out a large bottle of something and two double-shot glasses.

"What's all that for?"

"I hate housework too. I find several double shots of Tequila make it go a little faster. And since you've been conscripted..." Tom finished that statement by pouring out two of the biggest shots Cooper had been offered in a long time. He pointed to one, as if Cooper needed to be asked.

"To gettin' these fuckin' dishes done." Tom drained one of the shots and slammed the glass back down. Cooper joined, relishing the burn. He hated to admit it, and he'd kill anyone who said it publicly, but he was actually now having a good time. It helped that Jeff was real easy on the eyes.

Tom looked outside. Connor and Jeff were rolling around with Lizzie and Snoopy, getting completely covered with leaves.

"They won't be back for a while." He smiled, taking the bottle and his empty shot glass and going into the kitchen. The thoughts of more free liquor overriding his distaste for dishes, Cooper followed.

…….

Mark was starting to get really pissed off. James was still not back from his beer run. It had been like two hours since he had left and the mother fucker had not returned home. Grumbling under his breath, Mark took out his phone and dialed James's number. Three rings later, he once again got James's voicemail. "Damn it to hell James!" Mark growled as soon as he heard the beep to start his message. "Why do you have to pull this shit today out of all days? Is it really that hard to just come the fuck home? Ugh! You better fucking be back here by the time I get out of the shower or I'm coming out to hunt you down." He hung up his phone and put it on the coffee table. I can't believe him right now! Is it so fucking hard to just not be difficult for one night?

Muttering about how he was going to beat the shit out of his lover when he found him, Mark went upstairs and took a shower. He stalled as long as he could, trying to give James time to get there. But when he got out of the shower, James still wasn't home and he hadn't even called. "Bastard," Mark muttered. He dialed James's number one more time and once again got his voicemail. "You know what Lawson? Fuck you. I'm coming out to find you and you're going to wish you weren't born by the time I get a hold of you." He hung up the phone and literally came within inches of tossing the damn thing across the room.

Hold on a second, the rational part of him said, stepping in and forcing him to put the phone into the safety of his pocket. James probably just got distracted with hunting someone and shut his phone off. As soon as you go out hunting for him, he's going to call you and laugh at you for getting all pissy.

Despite that thought though, Mark would rather go look for James and get mocked for the next three days than sit and wait for James to come back. Because despite knowing that James tended to get distracted by hunting and killing at the worst times, something didn't feel quite right about this whole situation. James usually didn't pull a stunt like this for this long during their anniversaries, mainly because it cut into their time to have sex. Getting rid of the boys was not really that easy of a task and they had to take advantage of it whenever they could get the annoying shits gone.

Maybe his car broke down and he's just too stubborn to call me and have me pick him up, Mark thought as he left the house and got on his motorcycle. The bastard never knows when to ask for help. He started the motorcycle and got out of the driveway. No matter what the case was, he was going to find James and get him the fuck home. That at least would stop the crazy feeling that something was seriously and terribly fucking wrong with James. He's fine damn it. He's James. Nothing ever fucking happens to him. You're being stupid and crazy. You're going to find him and he's going to grin at you like an idiot and laugh at you for being an idiot. He's fucking okay.

Yet for some reason—and Mark didn't understand why—that felt like the furthest thing from the truth.

…….

Patrick chuckled as he listened to the voicemails from Mark yet again. James's lover had some severe anger issues. It really was amusing. He flipped James's phone shut and examined James's knife. Was it the same one that had killed his parents? He couldn't say for sure. It was a thing of beauty though. I think I'm going to keep this thing, he decided, sticking the weapon into his pocket. It's not like James is going to need it where he's going.

Looking down at the still unconscious form that was James, Patrick knew he had just a few hours before the large man woke back up. Mark would probably start his search at the store, and then in theory, it wouldn't take long for the big bad Undertaker to find his psycho. And once Mark was in…well, Patrick knew exactly what needed to be done to incapacitate the currently unemployed wrestler. Incapacitate was the key word. He wasn't going to kill Mark either. James needed to wake up and see his lover get tortured before that would happen.

Of course, there's still the boys to contend with…the apples that didn't fall far from the tree. Patrick wasn't too concerned about them. They were smaller and Connor's mental instability would be easy to prey upon. And if he got Connor, he was certain he could get Cooper. It was just all a matter of time now.

…….

Jeff and Connor were still playing outside with the dogs when Cooper and Tom finished the dishes, as well as most of the bottle of Tequila. Tom noticed that Cooper repeatedly checked his phone while in the kitchen.

"They're probably still having fun." Tom poured two more shots and stared at the bottle. There was about an inch of the liquid left inside.

"How the fuck would you know?" Cooper demanded.

"For one thing, I was Mark's boyfriend for a while and two, you're as subtle as a train wreck right now." Tom handed a full shot to Cooper, his own heart starting to pound.

"What the fuck ever." Cooper drained his shot.

"Exactly," Tom agreed "are you gay?"

Cooper spat Tequila all over himself, and a good portion of it ended up on the carpet. "So what if I am... Since when is who I fuck any of your business?" Cooper yelled.

"It is when I see you making eyes at my husband," Tom responded "I went through this shit with your father, I sure as hell ain't gonna do it again with you."

Cooper sneered at Tom.

"Pussy," Tom whispered

_Fucker's got a lot of balls..._ "What the fuck did you just say?"

"You obviously heard me the first time, so I'm not going to repeat myself." Emboldened by the liquor, Tom faced down Cooper.

"You can't talk to me like that! I'll..."

"You'll do nothing." Tom stared right into Cooper's eyes. "You're gonna stand there and listen. I will not have you mentally raping my husband while you're a guest in my house. I went about it the wrong way the last time it happened, but if you so much lay a finger on Jeff..."

"Try me." A good kill was definitely starting to seem like a better idea than standing here listening to this.

"Okay." Tom swung at Cooper. It was a clumsy punch, thanks to how drunk Tom was, and Cooper deflected it easily.

"Former champion, my ass!" Cooper swung back, and this time Tom dodged it. Too late, Cooper realized that this was part of Tom's plan. _I shoulda seen that comin_'. He thought as his arm was twisted behind him and he felt Tom's arm come across his throat.

"Calm your fuckin' hormones," Tom whispered into Cooper's ear. "You know how much trouble they can get people into."

"Tommers, what are you doing?"

"Yeah, get the fuck off my brother before I sic Snoopy on ya!"

Tom laughed, releasing Cooper. "I was just showin' Cooper a few moves." He shrugged, hoping that neither Connor nor Jeff would notice how drunk the two of them were.

"Why?" Jeff looked suspiciously at Tom.

"Because we were getting sick of waiting for the two of you to finish your fuckin' orgy." Cooper interjected

Tom cocked his head toward Cooper. Was Cooper actually defending him? He didn't really care if he was, it was just that the look he'd been giving Jeff was back in his eyes, but it wasn't directed at his husband. It was directed at him.

….

Mark found James's car in the grocery store parking lot. He went into the store and checked it, but James was nowhere in sight. As he was exiting the store, he saw that there was not only an abandoned building next door, but the alley between that building and the store was completely empty as well. Knowing James as well as he did, he went down the alley and looked around. There was a door on the side of the one building that was unlocked, so he went ahead and went through it.

"James?" he called out, not able to see much of anything. "Are you in here?" There was no answer. "James?" he tried again, hoping that if he yelled a little angrier and louder that he would get something. "Damn it Lawson, answer me! I know you have to be around here somewhere!"

A spooky feeling made Mark shudder a little bit. For some reason, this place was getting to him. Something just felt…he didn't know how to describe it. He walked into the building further, really wishing that he either had brought a flashlight with him or there would have been electricity still in the place. Visibility was definitely not good in this place.

Mark almost gave up his search when he saw a large figure on the ground out of the corner of his eye. The thing was almost completely hidden in the darkness, and it wasn't until Mark went to take a closer look that he realized that it was actually James laying there on the ground.

"What the fuck?" Mark said in disbelief, getting down on the floor to check on James. His lover was out cold. "James!" Mark growled, doing that more out of worry than anything else. He checked James's head for any sign of blood, bumps or bruises. There were none, but there was a small mark on the side of James's neck. It almost looked like he had been shot with a dart or something.

"James wake up!" Mark ordered. "Come on, wake the fuck up!" James still wasn't stirring though. Whatever had knocked him out had done one hell of a job with it. Muttering all kinds of obscenities under his breath, he managed to scoop James up into his arms (and considering that James was not only his size but dead weight as well, it wasn't an easy task) and get back up to his feet. Just as he turned around though, he found himself face to face with a man pointing the gun.

"Hello Marky," the man said, wearing an evil grin as he did so. He kept the gun pointed directly at Mark's face. "I was wondering when you would get here."


	3. Blaze of Glory

It was getting close to midnight, and Cooper was more than a little worried. Given Mark's longevity, it was plausible that their romantic encounters could still be going on, but that didn't make the situation any less tense. Since around ten-thirty, Cooper and Connor had alternated calling the house as well as Mark and James' cell phones, but with no answer.

"I'm sure it's nothin to worry about." The boys' nervousness was becoming infectious, not that Tom was even remotely concerned. "Maybe Mark had to step out for something and he forgot to take his phone with him."

"That don't explain much. James never goes anywhere without his phone on in case he has to bail Connor out of jail..."

"That only happened once!" Connor shouted. "It wasn't my fault... he didn't look like a cop!"

Tom looked over at Jeff, smiling. "Sound familiar?" he mouthed

Jeff laughed. This seemed to accelerate the tension that was building inside Cooper.

"This ain't fuckin' funny!" he screamed "They could be both lying in a ditch somewhere with their heads blown off or something!"

"Just calm your testosterone, man." The last thing Tom needed was to have the son of a psycho go psycho in his living room, as entertaining as that may be. "Has this ever happened before?"

"Never," Cooper answered, while Connor nodded in agreement while rubbing Snoopy's stomach. A few feet away, Lizzie looked on with interest. "Even when he's out, we've always been able to reach him."

"Let me try something." Tom used his own phone to call Mark. "If he's anywhere nearby, he'll call me right back on this. Even if he's with James."

He waited for Mark's voicemail to pick up. "Hey Calaway, it's Tom Hardy. I just talked to the office and I think we've straightened everything out. I told them I wasn't going back until Creative had something good for me. I think they are going to liven up our feud based on the throat-slashing incident, so can you call me immediately and let me know what your plans are... thanks lover-boy..." The last three words were spoken in a lispy falsetto.

"If that doesn't get Mark's attention..."

"...or get James on your ass again..." Cooper muttered.

"...or that, then something's happened to at least one of them," Tom concluded, staring at the digital display. "we'll give it fifteen minutes."

Tom and Jeff tried to keep the boys' minds off stuff while they waited, but even a fool could tell that both Connor and Cooper, two men who usually didn't give a shit about anyone other than themselves, were starting to get real anxious.

"Fuck this... I'm gonna go find them!" Cooper shouted.

"Me too!" Connor agreed.

"I'm inclined to agree. Mark has been on my ass about his job for three months. He kept saying call me anytime as soon as you hear anything," Tom answered

"Yeah. We're outta here. Connor, get your mutt and let's go."

"He's not a mutt! He's a cute little..."

"CONNOR!"

"Jeff, Cooper's being mean to me again!" he whined. Snoopy jumped off Connor's lap and ran into the bedroom, where he hid under the bed. "Now, look what you did!" He ran after the dog.

"Jeff, follow him. I'm not cleaning up another mess," Tom ordered.

"Yessir." Jeff took off after Connor and the dog.

"Fuckin' dog. Why did I let him buy the damn thing in the first place?" Cooper grumbled.

"Beats the fuck outta me," Tom replied "You need some help looking?"

"Fuck that. Dad's two rules... leave no witnesses and don't trust anyone but yourselves," Cooper replied, his words and his tough-guy attitude desperately trying to conceal the fact that he was a little scared.

"Good rules, but if something's happened to James and Mark, this might be way over your heads as well." Tom answered

"I can handle this, Hardy," Cooper stated. "You of all people should know what happens to those who stick their nose into Lawson family business."

"Yeah," Tom agreed, but he knew that Cooper was just trying to act tough. Why, he didn't know.

"You found that fuckin' dog yet?" Cooper shouted.

"He's still hiding under our bed and won't come out!" Jeff hollered back.

"Tell Connor he has five minutes or I'm leaving both of them here!" The longer it went on, the more cracks Tom saw in Cooper's armor. "I'll be out by the car."

Cooper grabbed his jacket and walked outside. Tom followed, the logical part of his brain asking him why he was even considering doing what he was about to do.

"Here." Tom scribbled two numbers on the back of an old receipt and handed it to Cooper.

"What the fuck is this?"

"My cell number and the home line." Tom replied

"I told you..."

"And I don't believe a word of it. You may think that you can handle this by yourselves, but if you find you can't, call me."

Cooper reluctantly accepted the slip of paper. "Hardy, you're fuckin' nuts."

"I may be. But I have something you don't have."

"And what's that?"

"Friends," Tom responded "I can't speak for Lawson, but Mark still has a lot of friends with the company..."

"I'm not getting you people involved and that's final," Cooper adamantly stated. The argument was sorta settled right there when Jeff, Connor, and a leashed Snoopy came outside.

"Let's go." Cooper shouted.

"Bye-bye! Say goodbye, Snoopy!" Connor stated. Snoopy barked, then jumped into the car.

"Cute." The mushiness of the situation was even too much for him to take, so Tom went back inside. Jeff came in a minute later to find Tom back at the bar, rooting around for something.

"What you and Cooper talk about?" Jeff asked.

"Nothing much," Tom lied "I don't trust Cooper much to begin with and I wish you wouldn't invite him around again."

"Awww.... I like Cooper and Connor."

"I know you do. Connor's fine, but I think Cooper has a thing for you," Tom replied. Given the looks he'd witnessed, Cooper had a thing for both of them. "And I'm not going to put up with anything like what I went through with James."

Jeff's lips scrunched and he chewed nervously on the bottom one.

"And furthermore, if something is going on with Mark and James, then I'd rather not get involved." Ironic, given that Tom has just offered the services of the entire WWE roster to find Mark. The less Jeff knew, the better for both of them.

"But..."

"Jeff, we're not going to start a stupid fight again, are we?" Tom softened his tone, as well as his stance. "You know I love you and I just don't want to see you get hurt again."

"I'm a big boy... I can take care of myself." Jeff sulked. "And you can't tell me who I can and can't hang around with!"

"I'm not. All I said was I don't want them here," Tom replied "If you want to... you know, no matter what I say right now, this is going to turn into another fight." He grabbed two of the remaining bottles of beer from the fridge and uncapped them both.

"I likes beer." Jeff reached for the bottle, but Tom pulled it back.

"On one condition... no more mentions of Connor, Cooper, or any of their problems. I got my point across and yes, I can't control who you hang around with. I'm your husband, not your father, but please just don't bring them to the house. For me?" Tom used one of Jeff's tricks and pulled the puppy dog face.

Jeff nodded. "Beer?"

"Here you go, honey." Tom finally gave it up.

"Yay!" Jeff chugged it greedily. "I love you Tommy."

"I love you too Jeff," Tom sighed. "Wanna watch a movie tonight?"

"Titanic?" Jeff asked.

"Sure... we haven't seen that one in almost a week. Go get the DVD player warmed up and I'll be in shortly. All this beer is making me hafta piss somethin' fierce."

"Okie-dokie." Jeff danced into the den. Tom went into the bathroom and did his business quickly. While washing his hands at the sink, he thought hard about what had just happened.

I_t was a good idea at the time, but what if Cooper calls you? Is it worth the risk?_

"You coming?" Jeff shouted.

"On my way." Tom took one last look at his reflection as he walked out. _Yes, it is._

……..

Mark didn't know how fucking long he just stared at the gun. He didn't even really look at the person holding until the guy chuckled. Then he absolutely glared at the guy, wanting to know what kind of fucking bullshit this was. "Who in the blue hell are you?" he growled, still keeping a close eye on that gun.

"The name's Patrick Wolfe," the guy replied. He kept the gun steadily aimed at Mark. "You might as well set your lover boy back down because you aren't going anywhere."

"Oh yeah? How much do you want to bet on that?" Mark asked. If he could get the gun out of the way, he was positive he could take this fucker.

Patrick smirked. "Don't underestimate me Marky. James made that same mistake and well…you're holding the end result right in your arms."

Mark looked down at James. The little punk holding the gun took down James? That was just not possible. Not unless he had some serious help.

"Come on Marky, we don't have all night," Patrick said impatiently. "I still have the boys to take care of you know."

His anger level rising to dangerous levels, Mark carefully set James down on the floor again. "What the fuck did you to James?" he asked, positively seething at this point. "Did you have some flunkies help you or something? Are they around here somewhere, waiting to get me too?"

Patrick looked amused. "Do I look like the type who needs flunkies?"

"Yeah, actually you do. Because I know for damn sure James should have beaten and killed your ass in about five seconds."

Patrick chuckled. "I don't have flunkies Marky."

"You best be knocking that "Marky" shit off right this instant boy." 'Only James is allowed to call me Marky.'

"But I did have a little help," Patrick admitted. "Pepper spray, taser, elephant tranquilizer—it wasn't until that last one that dear old James actually stayed down."

_I knew the bastard cheated. Asshole. He's so going to die right now._ Mark went to take a step forward but stopped when Patrick's finger got closer to the trigger. _Okay cool it Calaway. Just wait for a second. This guy is not playing with all fifty two cards. I can't rush into a fight like James did. Not yet anyway._

"That's better," Patrick said smugly. "Now turn around and put your hands up behind your head."

"Oh, so you're a crazy ass cop? Is that it?" Mark asked angrily.

"Oh no, of course not. I'm just like you and James. In fact, James created me. Now please, go ahead and do what I said. You don't want my finger to slip, do you?"

Mark turned around and put his hands up, but he had no intention of keeping them up for long. While he waited for his opportunity, he glanced down at James. His lover—his strong, unbreakable, homicidal maniac of a lover—had been gotten bested by someone. That was something that Mark had never seen before. Hell, even he hadn't ever truly bested James. There were times he thought he had, but James always found a way to come out on top in the end. Could that still happen? Well yeah—counting James out at any point in time was a huge mistake. But currently, the chances of it were not looking good at all.

Patrick grabbed Mark's wrist, and the Deadman moved quickly. He yanked his wrist free and punched Patrick in the gut with his other hand, causing the smaller man to double over in pain. Mark went to grab the gun, but it suddenly went off and one of the bullets lodged itself into his knee. He let out a yell of pain, and as he tried to recover from that, the butt end of the gun caught him right in the face, knocking him down to the ground.

"I tried to do this the easy way Mark," Patrick said, shaking his head. He pulled a taser out of his back pocket and used it against the Phenom. "I really did. But you—"

Mark kicked him away, gasping for breath because that fucking taser had hurt like hell. It wasn't as bad as the gunshot wound in his knee, but it still wasn't pleasant. Getting up to the one leg he could stand on, he managed to tackle Patrick down to the ground. They both started punching each other, just about breaking the bones in their own hands and each others faces. Mark knew he needed to get the gun but it wasn't in Patrick's hands anymore. Taking a bit of a chance, he looked back and saw that the gun was on the floor a bit of a ways away from him. Growling in determination, he punched Patrick in the face as hard as he could, seemingly knocking the guy almost all the way out. Unable to get up and run for the weapon, he rolled off of the smaller man and kept rolling towards the gun. And just when he had his fingertips on it, he felt something poke him right in the neck.

"Uh uh Marky," Patrick said, spitting out a mouthful of blood. "I'm not having any of that." He snatched the gun up and just smirked.

Mark's mind thought up of a million obscenities as the tranquilizer began working on his body. He tried to kick his feet and get Patrick between the legs, but he couldn't even get them halfway up. Groaning, he kept trying to fight the drug despite knowing that it was no use. Getting weaker and weaker by the second, he couldn't do anything as he was hit over the head twice with the gun, and then that was when everything went black.


	4. The Heat of the Moment

Patrick took his tow truck (which was parked in the grocery store parking lot) and loaded James's car and Mark's motorcycle on to the back of it. Then he took the truck and drove it into the alley. After shutting it off again, he grabbed the shackles from the backseat and then went back into the restaurant. Both Mark and James were still out cold. "Just the way I like them," Patrick muttered as got them all chained up. He didn't want them trying to put up a fight until he got them to where he planned on taking them.

Of course, there was one disadvantage to having them both unconscious—they were dead fucking weight. And since both of them were a good three hundred pounds, that wasn't a good thing. "Holy fucking shit," Patrick muttered, "this is going to kill my fucking back." First he carried Mark out and put him in the back seat of James's car. Then he went back in and lugged James out, making sure to stuff him in the trunk of his own car.

Finally, Patrick thought to himself, getting back into his truck and taking off again. After all this time, everything had gone well so far. Now all he needed to do was get James and Mark set back up at his place before they woke up and then he could go hunting for the boys. Since they were both much closer to his size, one would think he wouldn't have much trouble taking them down. But he wasn't stupid enough to take them lightly at all. From what he had observed for the past few months, Cooper was just as tough as James and Mark and Connor was completely unpredictable, to say the least. Neither of them were going to be a walk in the park, that much was certain.

_Connor will be easier to go after though_. Patrick thought to himself as he pulled out on to the main road. Connor had the mind of a child, so he wouldn't be all that hard to manipulate. Then that would leave Cooper all alone, and he would be more vulnerable than he had ever been in his life.

Patrick hummed under his breath as he kept on driving, glancing out his rear-view mirror to take a look at the vehicles he had on the back of his truck. He hadn't left them at the grocery store because he didn't want Cooper and Connor to have any kind of idea on where to look. He was toying with them, driving them insane with the worry about the fate of the two people who took care of them. He had listened to their messages before he had gone out to get his truck and he heard how their tones went from annoyed, to pissed off, to really fucking worried. It had been really hard to resist calling them back and laughing at them, telling them that their precious daddies were going to get what they deserved. He had resisted though, because he still wanted to maintain his element of surprise. And having them hear his voice before he confronted either of them face to face would take away that advantage.

_Of course, if Mark or James get free or the boys…no, I'm not even going there._ Patrick wasn't about to let doubts start filling his head now. He knew damn well that he was screwed if something went wrong. None of the people he was dealing with were amateurs. Sure they were all brutes who didn't have the brains he did, but once they were taken by surprise the first time, it was going to be very hard to do it again. That was why he absolutely had to maintain control of this situation now. There was no turning back from this.

Luckily, he had no interest in turning back or giving up his control. He had waited way too long for this. This wasn't even about his parents as much as it had been before. After months of watching the Lawson clan, the idea of taking them all out single handily was thrilling, to say the least. The monsters that could walk around unnoticed despite their lack of finesse, the way they usually dominated everyone they went after…this was a game that was way too fun to pass up. _And so far I'm winning, so ha fucking ha. I'm not stopping until I get every single member of this fucking family…and anyone else who tries to get in my way._

…….

"Connor, for the love of God, let's go back and drop the damn dog off at the house," Cooper muttered. "He's driving me fucking crazy."

Connor pouted and scratched Snoopy behind the ears. They had already been to the house once to check and see if Mark and James were there. Their daddies hadn't been there; in fact, the food Mark had cooked hadn't even been touched. That had set Cooper into more of a tizzy, and Connor was starting to get really freaked out. He just had this feeling that something really bad had happened. He hadn't told Cooper about it because his brother was on the verge of completely freaking out, but it was a feeling that would not go away.

"Are you even listening to me?" Cooper snapped. "Connor? Connor!"

"I heard you the first time!" Connor growled. He hugged Snoopy tightly. "And I don't want to take Snoopy back! What if Mark and Daddy got snatched from the house? The people could come back when we're gone and take poor Snoopy away."

"There wasn't any sign of a struggle." Cooper muttered, although he did turn a few shades paler at that thought. He took a deep breath and turned right. "And both Dad's car and Mark's bike are gone. Whatever happened to them probably didn't happen there."

Connor sighed and looked at Snoopy. The beagle put his paws on Connor's chest and licked his face. "Snoopy says they were kidnapped," Connor announced.

Cooper glared at him. "The dog didn't say anything because he can't talk."

"Yes he can! You just can't hear him because you're a dick!" Connor gave Snoopy a big kiss on the nose. Stupid Cooper was so mean sometimes. If Connor didn't love him so much the relationship would have come to a violent end a long time ago.

"Damn it Connor, please don't keep up with your bullshit," Cooper pleaded. "I really, really cannot take it right now."

Connor tilted his head to the side and studied his older brother carefully. Cooper had a look on his face that he hadn't seen since that one time he had fallen out of the tree in their front yard and nearly had broken his neck. "Cooper?" he said quietly, almost afraid to find out what was going on in his brother's mind.

Cooper bit his lower lip before pulling the car over. "Connor?"

"Whatty?"

"Mark and Dad aren't okay, are they?"

Connor frowned. "Why are you asking me?" It was a stupid question. He knew damn well why already.

Cooper clenched the steering wheel tightly. "You're the one who has a feeling for these kinds of things," he said, needlessly explaining why he even asked. "Connor please, just be honest with me."

Connor gulped. This wasn't going to get a good reaction. "They're not okay," he said quietly. "I think they're in big trouble."

Cooper's knuckles began to turn white because of how hard he was gripping the steering wheel. "Do you think we'll find them?" he asked.

Connor thought about it long and hard. He even looked at Snoopy for advice. But nothing came to him. "I don't know," he said, shrinking back because he knew that the answer he had just given was not what Cooper had wanted to hear.

Growling under his breath, Cooper got out of the car and slammed the door shut. Snoopy began whining and barking as the older man started hitting the shit out of the side of the car. Connor winced and hugged Snoopy tightly. "Ssshhh, it's going to be okay," he said, not even really believing it himself. "It's going to be okay…"

...

Standing by the kitchen sink, Tom was in the process of second-guessing himself once again. If something had indeed happened to James and Mark, then it was probably a really stupid thing he'd done, giving Cooper his phone number. Oh well, it wouldn't be the first time I've fucked myself. He turned off the kitchen light and walked into the bedroom. Maybe a good night's sleep would put things into perspective.

"Coming to bed, Jeffers?" Tom asked

"In a couple. Just gonna put Lizzie to bed first."

"Don't take too long." Tom kissed Jeff on the top of the head when he passed.

"I won't."

...

Cooper stared at the receipt on the floor. It had fallen out of his pocket while he was getting ready for bed. If it hadn't, he wouldn't even think twice about it, but when Connor had feelings like this, rarely was he far off.

"Fuckity fuck fuck." Cooper grabbed his cell phone, then put it back on the table. "I'll call him in the morning." He laid down on his bed and closed his eyes, desperately trying to take his mind off the fact that he and Connor still didn't know where the fuck James and Mark were. Maybe they'll be here in the morning, he thought hopefully. Maybe this will turn out to be a horrible joke and Connor will be wrong for once.

…….

"I thought you had a rule about don't trust anyone..." Tom leaned against the side of his viper, smoking a cigarette.

"I'm a Lawson. We usually don't play by the rules." Cooper answered

"I know." Three months ago, Tom would've prayed for a situation like this to come along. The only logical explanation he could come to for what he was doing was that he and Mark had patched up their relationship. "But that still doesn't explain why I am in the middle of nowhere, doing this?"

"You gave me your fuckin' number," Cooper answered "I didn't want that twink of a husband of yours to get suspicious."

"Jeff? He's always suspicious... he gave me a grilling about what we were talking about when he came to bed." Tom shrugged. "The big question is why the hell does it always hafta rain?"

"Someone up there is fuckin' with us." Tom pointed to his car. "Climb in."

Cooper had taken James' motorcycle, so he wouldn't wake Connor up when he left. Tom followed Cooper into the backseat.

"I'm assumin' you got an idea," Tom stretched out.

"No... I was hopin' you would," Cooper replied.

"Me? It's your fathers we're goin' after. I just offered to provide muscle if it came to that." Tom stated.

"Connor thinks something bad's happened to them. When he has feelings like this, he's usually right on..." The cracks Tom had noticed in Cooper's facade at the house were back, larger this time. "Last time he had feelings this strong..." Dredging up the memory of how Connor knew Annabelle was going to die was too much for even Cooper and he started to cry, something he hadn't done since that night many years ago.

"At least you got to say goodbye to yours." Tom responded wistfully, remembering the phone call from his aunt many months ago. "All I got was a phone call."

Cooper wiped his nose on his arm, sniffling loudly, then mumbled something that sounded like 'Stop being a fuckin' pussy.'

"Don't be so hard on yourself." Tom did something that Cooper did not expect. He kissed him, softly, on the forehead. "Pussy, I don't think so, but fuckin'... that's another story."

Cooper's eyes, still shiny with tears, went wide.

"I know that's what you wanted, calling me out here." Tom stroked the side of his face, the muscles in Cooper's cheek trembling at the slight touch.

"But how did you...?" Cooper was unaware of how easily Tom had read him earlier.

"I saw the way you were looking at Jeff, as well as me." A lustful gleam was in Tom's eyes. "This time, I am not letting Jeff have all the fun." He grabbed the front of Cooper's shirt and ripped it open.

Cooper groaned when the cool air hit his skin.

"You work out?" Tom stared at Cooper's muscular chest.

"Fuck no... just good genes."

"Speaking of jeans..." Tom reached for the bulge in Cooper's.

A few one-night stands (topping, bottoming…he wasn't the little slut Connor could be and he wasn't always trying to dominate like James did; he just went with the flow) and the occasional night with Connor aside (Connor was difficult to get into the mood sometimes, so half the time it wasn't worth the effort), Cooper's sex life was pretty much dormant. He'd taken to killing early on and found that it released the same endorphins as sex so he'd stuck with what he had an easier time getting.

"You okay Coop?" Tom's eyes were mesmerizing. Cooper realized he'd been staring into them like an idiot.

"Fuck, yeah!" Cooper exclaimed.

"You got it." With his left hand, Tom started to unbuckle Cooper's belt while, with his right, he took his chin into his hand and pressed their lips together. The kiss sent an electrical surge through his body. Whether it was just the pheromones or there was something cosmic about it, Cooper was zoned into to the duality of the feelings from his head and his groin.

Cooper melted at the touches. Tom quickly got his jeans open and caressed the boxer-covered swelling with first his fingers, then with his lips, soaking the thin material. Cooper groaned, arching his hips upward for more.

Wordless moans exited his lips when his aching cock was finally freed and soon enveloped in a hotness that almost brought him off right away. He hissed when something slippery brushed against the hole in the top.

"Ahhhh... more Tom, pleeeeease...."

"Don't worry, there's a lot more. More than you can handle," Tom chuckled, yanking Cooper's legs forward; his jeans and shorts flying off in the process.

_He's gonna fuck me. He's gonna fuck me. He's gonna..._ "Oh, fuck me!" Cooper screamed when Tom thrust inside him without any warning.

"What the hell do you think I'm doing?" Tom grunted with each thrust, riding Cooper like a bull at a country fair.

Knowing that Tom wasn't going to let him take any control, Cooper fell back against the door and let the oldest Hardy have his way with him. Tom's heavy breathing and his own moans of pleasure were soon mixed together.

Losing himself in what was happening, Cooper suddenly realized that their grunts and moans had turned into yelps and whines... almost like a dog.

Snoopy? What the hell is that dog doing here? Cooper thought, then everything started to disintegrate. He blinked twice and it was gone. There was no car, no Tom, and most of all no hot sex... it was all a dream.

"God fucking damn it!" Cooper screamed.

The yelps and whines that had destroyed his fantasy were being made by Snoopy, scratching at the door to his bedroom.

"Fuckin' dog! Connor!"

Cooper waited for his brother to come claim his dog so he could get back to sleep, not that he'd have a chance to restart his dream. Five minutes passed, then ten, then fifteen, and Snoopy was still scratching at the door.

"Dammit Connor," Cooper groaned, pulling the blankets from his body. "Fuck!" He was still painfully hard.

He opened his door a crack and yes, Snoopy was there. He looked up at Cooper, and whined again, then pushed his way into the room.

"Hey! You don't sleep here!" Cooper protested.

Snoopy jumped on Cooper's bed and fell asleep in minutes, snoring softly.

"Don't get too comfortable," Cooper grumbled, walking down the hall to his brother's room. Either Connor was going to get Snoopy off his bed immediately so Cooper could get back to sleep, or the younger psycho was going to give up his ass first and then get the damn mutt. But no matter what was chosen, Snoopy was not spending the night in Cooper's room.

_Why'd he let the dog out in the first place? He always sleeps with his door closed!_

No sooner had he asked himself this, he received his reply. Connor's door was wide open... and he was long gone.


	5. Quest for Fire

James was standing on a stage. How he had gotten there, what he was supposed to do—he didn't have those fucking answers. All he knew was that his shoulders ached badly and the light that was shining on him was too hot and bright. He looked around, trying to see if he saw anyone out in the crowd, but the light made it so he couldn't see a fucking thing. "Fuck fuck fuck," he muttered, closing his eyes and shaking his head. His head felt funny and he felt sort of sick to his stomach.

"James. Oh James, it's time to wake up."

James growled, wanting to punch the owner of that annoying fucking voice. Flashes of what happened earlier began coming back to him and now he was so fucking angry that he could barely stand it. All he wanted to do now was get his hands on that bastard Patrick and—

James coughed and choked as a whole bunch of water was poured on to his face, effectively waking him up. "There we go," Patrick said, sounding much more cheerful now. "I was wondering when you were going to rejoin us sleepyhead. You were making me start to worry just a little bit."

Still coughing and choking, James turned his head to the side and did his best to get the water out of his mouth and nose. Since he was laying down on something (besides from being able to tell it wasn't a fucking table, he couldn't quite tell what it was for sure), a lot of the water that had gotten up his nose wasn't coming out that well, so now his head hurt like a mother fucker.

"Oh boy, maybe I should have used less water," Patrick said in mock concern. "What do you think Mark?"

'Mark? Mark's fucking here?' James moved his head up as far as he could and saw Mark on the other side of the room, chained up against the wall with some heavy duty lookin' shackles. The Deadman was awake and glaring daggers at Patrick, but he was also clutching at his knee in the way that didn't set well with James.

"Now see, this thing you're tied to here is something I actually built myself," Patrick said. Apparently he was under the impression that James gave a shit. "I'm a big fan of medieval torture methods and this is called a rack." He smirked. "I know that you're not the most educated person in the world James, but…"

James began tuning Patrick out. He knew damn well what a fucking rack was. It was supposed to be the most painful of all the torture shit they did to people back in medieval times. He knew that once Patrick started turning the handle, the ropes were going to start pulling on his arms. Eventually, if the handle was turned enough, the bones in his arms would dislocate. And then, if this Wolfe guy felt the need to keep going, he was looking at the possibility of fucking losing his own arms.

A loud clanging noise interrupted Patrick's babbling and brought James out of his thoughts. Mark was yanking at his chains, doing just about anything to force himself free. "Must you do that?" Patrick asked, talking to Mark like he was a dumb child. "You're not going to get free by doing it."

Mark ignored him and kept pulling against his chains. James could hear the curse words flying out of his lover's mouth. He felt like cussing right along with him. This was not a pleasant situation to be stuck in. Getting the tables turned on them was not something James liked, and he knew that Patrick was looking to make them fear him. But he knew something that Patrick had yet to realize. It was about a trait he had inherited from Caroline, and it was the only useful thing he had ever gotten from her.

He was not afraid to die. Did he actually want to die? Of course not. Did he want to get tortured? No, because that shit would fucking hurt. But was he actually afraid of those things? Would they make him tremble in front of his captor? Fuck no. Hell, he was more worried about Mark than he was about himself.

"You two are just so stubborn," Patrick said, shaking his head in exasperation. He turned the handle on the rack once, causing James's arms to stretch just a little bit before walking over taking a gun out of his pocket, walking over to Mark and smacking him upside the head. "I said fucking stop that!"

Mark grunted, and he reached out to grab at Patrick. Unfortunately, the chains on his arms weren't long enough and he couldn't even begin to reach the fucker. "Oh you're just so fucking tough, aren't you?" Mark growled. "You had to drug us to get us anywhere and now you have to keep us all tied down or you know that we would kill you in two seconds flat."

"Is that a fact?" Patrick asked with a grin.

"Oh yeah," Mark confirmed.

"That's probably true, but does it matter? Is that point even valid right now?" Patrick stomped on Mark's obviously injured knee, getting an involuntary shout of pain for his efforts. "Even if you got free right now, you've only got one leg to stand on." He waved the gun around playfully. "And I would make sure you lost that one before you even laid one finger on me."

James tried to tilt his head back to get a good look at his hands. He wanted to yank against the rope as hard as he could and see if he could pull himself free. But the rope looked strong enough to hold against the first few of his yanks, and with Patrick down there, oh so fucking willing to stretch the shit out of him, that wasn't the best idea in the world. If his arms got taken out now, there was no fucking way he was getting himself free. And if he couldn't get himself free, he sure as hell wasn't going to be able to help Mark.

As if he sensed what James was thinking about, Patrick came back over and turned the handle of the rack more, causing an excruciating pain to go through James's shoulders and arms. He clenched his mouth shut quickly, not wanting Patrick to get too much satisfaction out of this.

"Oh Lawson," Patrick said, his hands just daring to turn the handle again. "I wouldn't try my patience too much if I were you. I still have to get my hands on your boys and if I don't have the patience to deal with them, something very bad could happen to them as a result in me letting out my frustration."

It literally took everything in James's power not to fucking verbally rip this fucker apart. He kept himself under control though (one of the few times in his life he bothered to do so) and kept his mouth shut. It wasn't like screaming and cussing and threatening about what he was going to do to this mother fucker if his boys had so much as a hair harmed on their head was going to do any good. No, he did know better than that at least. He had to fucking focus on getting himself off this fucking rack and then he would worry about killing the fuck out of Patrick.

_And what a glorious fucking death it's going to be because I am officially beyond fucking pissed off right now._

……….

Connor wandered down the alley, expecting for either Cooper to jump out of the shadows and yell at him for taking off or the shadows that took Mark and James away to come for him too. He had tried to rest like Cooper had said they should, but every time he had closed his eyes, he had seen a wolf, and he could have sworn that it lunged right at him each and every single time. And with each time he felt that, the bad feeling he had about his dad and Mark got worse and worse. Finally he had no choice but to leave. The wolf was going to keep haunting him and if the wolf had James and Mark, they needed his help. So he had opened his door so Snoopy would be able to keep Cooper company and he had climbed out his window.

That had been…well he didn't know how long ago that had been. Time wasn't something he had an easy time keeping track of. He did know that it was nearly morning though. The sun would be up soon. Would the wolf come out during the day? It wanted him badly enough. He didn't know how he knew that, but he did. And if it could get James and Mark, it could definitely get him too.

He whimpered and banged his head against the nearest building. He should go back home to Cooper. Safety in numbers. There was supposed to be safety in numbers. But James and Mark, they weren't okay. They needed help now and doing things Cooper's way wasn't going to get it done. He wasn't going to be able to rest unless he kept on looking. Banging his head one last time for good measure, he started wandering around again, hoping he could spot the wolf before it spotted him.

Because if it did, he was going to be in big, BIG trouble.

…..

_Maybe Connor just went for a walk._

Cooper had been thinking that over and over for the past hour, and had almost deluded himself into believing it to be true and his younger sibling would come home any second.

_He may be dumb, but he's not that dumb._

If Connor had gone out looking for Mark and James... Cooper didn't want to think about that. If someone had taken the pair of them, and the more Cooper thought about it the more likely it seemed, then Connor might be walking into a trap. Snoopy seemed to also sense something was wrong. Sitting on the end of Cooper's bed, he watched him pace his bedroom.

"Whaddya think, dog? Did your daddy do something stupid?" Cooper sat down beside the dog and idly stroked its fur.

Snoopy looked at Cooper for a moment, then cocked his head and barked once.

"Fuck!" he shouted

Snoopy looked up, barked again, and then trotted to the head of the bed.

"You better not be sleepin' on my pillow..." Cooper stopped in mid-threat when he understood what the puppy was doing. His tail wagging, Snoopy was staring at the table beside the bed... where he'd set the piece of paper Tom had given him the night before down.

Go on. Tom said he'd help and if Connor's already been taken, then you're next. The dog seemed to be saying.

Cooper still hesitated. Part of him was gung-ho to believe that he could handle this on his own, but that was probably what had gone through Connor's head before he took off and who knows what had happened to him, and another part of him was intelligent enough to realize that if he was going to have any shot at revenge, then kamikaze tactics was not the way to go. A third part of him wanted to call Connor and royally ream him out, not only for leaving in the middle of the night, but leaving in the middle of the night when Cooper was coming to plow his ass. His cock twitched in agreement at this.

"You better be right about this." Cooper grabbed his cell phone and the receipt and with a heavy heart, began to dial.

...

Connor's wanderings eventually led him to the alley by the grocery store. He and Cooper hadn't gotten a great look around when they had checked in this area earlier because there had been a whole bunch of cop cars around the area dealing with a robbery or something. There was still a whole bunch of yellow police tape around, but he just ripped that shit up and began investigating the area.

_Dark…it's so fucking dark here. I should have brought a flashlight so I could—wait, blood!_ He stopped in his tracks and examined the stains he saw on the ground. It was definitely blood. Whether it was Mark's or James's or someone else's, he didn't know. With all the bad feelings that were overtaking him, he was pretty sure it belonged to either Mark or James.

Since the trail of blood stopped right in the middle of the alley, Connor followed it into an abandoned building next to the store. In there he found more blood and he found something else: his mother's old locket that James always kept stashed in his pocket. It was too girly for his dad to wear around his own neck but he always kept it with him. The fact that it was here meant that something bad had to have definitely happened to him. This did not leave James's possession otherwise.

Getting extremely anxious, Connor put the locket around his own neck and looked around for more clues. All he found was more blood and a dead body, but that didn't tell him where James and Mark were. Getting frustrated, he took off again. This was definitely where the wolf had gotten his daddy, and it could have been where it had gotten Mark. But that didn't answer the most important questions of all.

Where were they now? And when would the wolf come for him and Cooper? Because as much as he hated it, he knew without a shadow of doubt that they were next.

……..

Cooper stared at his phone, breathing heavily. The display showed the seven digit number that Tom had given him. All he had to do was press the SEND button, but he couldn't will his finger to do it. He was filled with loathing. Whether it was because he was about to ask for help from the one person on the planet that, if he were dying of thirst in the desert, he wouldn't even stop and offer a drink of water or if it was directed at James and/or Mark for putting him in this position, Cooper didn't know and he didn't care. All he knew was that Connor was gone and if the same thing had happened yet again, then time was extremely short.

"Forgive me Father, for I am about to do something really fuckin' stupid." With an animalistic growl, Cooper hit send. All that was left to do was wait until the connection was made.

Across town, a pile of blankets was snoring loudly when the phone rang. After the third ring, an arm appeared and reached amongst the crap on the table, knocking a book and a pile of pocket change onto the floor before finally latching onto the phone and snaking it back into the cocoon.

The owner of the phone looked at it, like he wanted to reach through the device and throttle whomever it was on the other end.

"Hello?" He groaned. Still half asleep and his mouth stuffed with cotton, Cooper had a hard time recognizing the voice.

"Tom?" He asked

His eyes shot open at the voice. It was a surprise to say the least. "Cooper?" He whispered, as not to wake the man sleeping beside him.

"Can we talk?"

Tom looked over his shoulder, just to make sure that Jeff was asleep. He was, his Bunny curled tightly in the fold of his tattooed arm. "What happened?"

Cooper swallowed loudly. "Connor's disappeared."


	6. Smoked out!

James bit his lower lip hard enough to draw blood as he began trying to pull on the ropes that kept his hand tied up above his head. Patrick had gone upstairs to get something and James wanted to get the fuck free if he could. His shoulders and arms were really starting to hurt because Patrick had been having a little fun turning the handle on the rack. 'Fuck…damn it, how fucking strong is this rope?'

"James?" Mark said, his voice strained and filled with pain. "I think the fucking bullet wound is starting to get infected."

"Thanks for sharing that Marky," James snapped, still trying to yank the rope. "But since I'm not a fucking doctor, I don't know what you expect me to do about it."

"Hey! You don't get to be the angry one here! I'm the one who has the right to be pissed! It's because of you we're here right now!"

"Fuck you Marky," James growled, not wanting to hear that at the moment. He knew that it was his fault. Mark hadn't been there with him when he had killed Patrick's parents and awakened this fucking monster. Patrick would have definitely mentioned it by now. So since this was James's fault, he was going to get them the fuck out of this.

Well, he was going to try to anyway. "Damn it," he growled. He stopped and took a deep breath. "I think whatever he drugged me with is still working."

Mark sighed. "I think it's still working on me too. My muscles are kind of feeling like pudding right now."

James moved his head up so he could look at Mark. His lover's face was pale and he was breaking out into a sweat. He also had a cut directly above his eyebrow that was bleeding, and the blood was dripping down the one side of his face. "Is that wound seriously getting infected?" he asked.

Mark nodded. "I think it is."

Well fuck. That wasn't good. James pulled on his ropes again, ignoring the burning pain that was settling in on his limbs. He had to get himself free so he could kill the fuck out of Patrick, get Mark to a hospital and make sure Cooper and Connor didn't get taken too. He didn't know what his boys were doing at the moment, but he hoped that they stayed out of danger. If something happened to them…well he didn't want to think about that. It was bad enough that he and Mark were in the situation they were in.

The door to the room opened and Patrick came down the stairs with a first aid kit. "If I had feelings, I would feel very guilty right now," he announced. "I completely forgot about cleaning that bullet wound for you Marky."

"Quit calling him Marky," James growled. "Only I get to call him that."

Patrick raised his eyebrows. "I don't think you're in any position to be telling me what to do Lawson." He set the kit down on the table near James and walked to the back of the room. "Now Marky, I wanted you awake more so I could play, but this really would go easier if you were sleeping."

Mark immediately tensed up and James couldn't blame him once he managed to turn his head enough to see Patrick was doing. "Don't worry, it's just a tranquilizer gun," he assured them. "And the stuff isn't as strong as the last drug you got dosed with."

_Oh yes, because that's fucking better,_ James said in his head. He tried pulling on the ropes harder than ever as Mark tried to yank his chains off the wall. Patrick looked back and forth between them in amusement before raising the gun and firing it at Mark. "Mother fucker!" Mark yelled as the dart lodged itself into his chest. He yanked it out as fast as he could, but James knew the damage had been done.

Patrick lowered the gun and patiently waited until the tranquilizer began to take effect. Then he grabbed the first aid kit and knelt down beside Mark. "Was it hard Lawson?"

"Was what hard?" James growled, absolutely seething at this point. He wasn't even sure if he was angry anymore; that didn't seem like a strong enough word to describe his feelings at the moment.

"When he was out on the road," Patrick said. He cut the area of Mark's jeans that were right by his knee away so he could get to work on playing doctor. "Before he got fired after that whole fiasco with you and him and….who were those other two again? Tom and Jeff?"

James's eyes narrowed. He had almost forgotten that Patrick had said earlier that he had been watching him for six months. The whole Hardy/Lawson/Calaway saga had played out before this bastard's eyes. "I don't see how it's any of your business," he replied.

"Oh come on, I'm just trying to make conversation," Patrick told him. "The least you could do is make an effort to be pleasant."

James snorted. "Come on Wolfe, you've said you've been stalking me for half a year now. You should know that I'm not even that pleasant to the people I actually like. What in the bluest of blue hells makes you think that I'm going to play nice with you?"

"Well seeing as how your boyfriend is so out of it that I could take this scalpel and—"

"If you really wanted to hurt him, you would have given him something that would have kept him more aware," James interrupted. He was looking straight at Mark, who was drifting in and out of consciousness now. "If you torture him now, he's not even really going to feel it, and that won't be any fun for you."

Patrick actually stopped what he was doing and looked at James. "You think I'm doing this for fun?"

James nodded. "It's not for revenge. You want me to believe that this is revenge for killing your parents and creating your monster, but I don't buy that shit for a second. You're happy with who you are. This whole thing with me, it's for your own ego. That's what all your killings are for. You have to prove your better. You have to take your victims and break them because it's the only thing that gets you through the nights once you're done jerking off and pretending that it was one of your dear, dead parents doing it for you."

Patrick finished with Mark and got back up to his feet. "You really think you've got me all figured out, don't you James?"

James shrugged as best he could. "My little psychological profile on you really doesn't fucking matter in the long run. One of us is going to die and it's more than likely going to be you—"

Patrick laughed. "I'm not sure if you've noticed this James, but you're the one at my mercy here."

"Details Wolfe," James said smugly, just to annoy the shit out of the guy. "Nobody cares about the insignificant details." He wasn't about to admit that Patrick had a good point. That wouldn't be like him at all.

"Keep telling yourself that," Patrick responded. He grabbed the tranquilizer gun and aimed it at James. "If you need to believe that you're somehow going to get free just to rip my head off, do it. It won't hurt my feelings one little bit." He shot James as almost point blank range, making the larger man curse under his breath. "It's really not going to hurt my feelings."

_It's not your feelings I'm out to hurt asshole,_ James thought to himself as he felt the tranquilizer begin to take effect. _I am going to fucking rip you from limb to limb…as soon as this fucking shit wears off._

………

Pacing his living room, Tom waited for Cooper to show up. He'd refused to tell Tom anything more than Connor had disappeared over the phone, which surprised him given the panicky tone he had used. Jeff was fast asleep on the sofa; despite Tom's insistence that Jeff stay awake since it was going to have an effect on him, he couldn't.

Tom jumped a little when Cooper signaled his arrival with several thumps on his door.

"I thought it was his brother who wanted to kick my door in." Tom muttered. Then he just shrugged. "Jeffro, wake up! Guests!"

Jeff yawned. "No guests... sleep!" he groaned, clutching Bunny tighter.

"Greet our guests or no Skittles!" Tom growled.

At that, Jeff was up in a flash.

"You finally came to your senses, did you?" Tom yanked open the door, but who knows to whom that comment was directed.

"Fuck you," both Jeff and Cooper said at the same time.

With Snoopy on his leash, Cooper stepped inside. As soon as Snoopy saw Lizzie, asleep beside Jeff, he strained at his leash, yapping frantically.

"You mind?" Cooper bent down to unsnap it.

"Fuck, no. Glad to see someone in that fucked-up family of yours can make a friend." Tom watched as Snoopy ran across the living room and put his paws up on the couch, sniffing Lizzie. She opened her eyes, but then rolled over and went back to sleep. Snoopy looked at Jeff, sadness in his puppy dog eyes.

"Lizzie's not much of a morning person. Much like her owner," Tom joked.

"I'm awake, already!" Jeff complained. "What more do you want, a blow job?"

A red flush, matching the color of his original hair, starting creeping across Cooper's face.

"Don't mind Jeff," Tom laughed into his hand. "He can be inappropriate at the most inappropriate times."

Cooper sighed. It wasn't the comment, but the vision that accompanied it that was making him all hot and bothered.

"So, you better sit down and explain everything." Tom took a seat and pointed to one nearby. "I've kept Jeffers in the dark."

"Yeah," Jeff sulked "Didn't your momma tell you it wasn't nice to keep secrets?"

"I dunno," Tom scowled "I'd ask her but she's dead, remember?"

_Another thing we have in common,_ Cooper thought to himself. _What the fuck is this world coming to? Well, here goes..._

Cooper told Jeff and Tom everything that had happened since the time they'd left the house, leading up to Connor's feelings and Cooper finding him gone when he woke up. He left out the part about the erotic dream for the moment.

"How accurate are these premonitions that Connor has?" Tom asked

"He doesn't have them very often, but they're usually deadly accurate." Cooper emphasized the adjective.

"Next question: what makes you think that he went after whomever took your dads?"

"He does really fuckin' stupid things sometimes, ya know?"

"Yeah, I know," Tom answered, intentionally looking over at Jeff who was busy playing with Snoopy.

"What?" Jeff looked up. "I been payin' attention. It ain't my fault that Lizzie's PMS'ing."

Tom snickered. "Did Connor give you any idea who might be doing this?"

"Not really. But if one person is responsible for all this, then Connor is fucked. Any more questions?"

"Not really. I think I got this figured out." Tom was already running through a list of people who might be willing to throw down if necessary. Glenn for sure, maybe Matt and Randy, if he could convince them that this was a favor to himself, possibly Shane and Shannon, but the fewer people he needed to tell, the less chance someone close to them would get hurt.

"Then I got a question for you? Why the fuck do you even give a shit about my family in the first place? Most people's response would be good riddance if James was found at the bottom of a lake."

"You want an honest fuckin' answer, man? I don't give a shit about James at all. It's Mark I'm worried about. Until I get Mark in the ring, my finances are tighter than my abs." Tom responded. "He's my meal ticket. I'm sorry if that pisses you off even more."

"Fuck no. I sorta figured it was something like that. I couldn't see you doing anything for the guy who almost ended your life, tried taking your husband away, fucked said husband..."

"You forget one thing. I fucked his man as well, so we're sorta even in that department. If I really wanted to get to him, I coulda just fucked you and Connor as well. I'm sure he really woulda loved that."

Not as much as I would...Cooper felt the familiar heat going to both his face and his groin. He didn't give a shit about either, but a hard-on was about as welcome right now as it was during one of Mark's matches.

"...do?" Jeff said

"Huh?" Cooper grunted, realizing he'd had a momentary lapse of reason.

"Jeff asked you what are you gonna do?" Tom repeated

"I dunno. I'm worried about Connor, but I ain't fuckin' stupid." Cooper knew that he wasn't going to be any help to Connor, Mark or James if he went out and got himself captured by this mystery person (or persons).

Tom and Jeff nodded to each other. "Okay," Tom said. "I suggest that we drive to your house, you pack a few things, and stay here for a day or two. It seems to me that this maniac, whoever he is, will probably try to grab you when you're alone. If we keep you around people as much as possible, it'll at least buy us some time. Agreed?"

Cooper didn't like it, but he knew Tom was one hundred percent right. If his family were the targets, then he was next and having a bull's-eye on his chest wasn't on his list of fun things to do. "Fine," he said. "Whatever."

"Grab your keys and let's go then. We don't know how much time we have."

......

Connor rubbed his eyes and yawned loudly as he wandered around aimlessly. A very small part of his brain was telling him to go back to Cooper. It wasn't safe for him to be out alone at the moment. But he didn't do it because…well, he didn't actually know why. Logic, rational thinking, common sense—none of these things were Connor's strong suit. He knew that his mind didn't function like other peoples. Even if he knew that something bad could happen to him if he did something, ninety nine point nine percent of the time, he ended up doing it anyway. That was just the way he was. Cooper called it stupidity, Mark called it insanity, James called it a complete lack of understanding about self-endangerment—all three of them were probably right. Connor didn't give a shit at the moment. Even if he didn't truly fully understand or realize the danger that he himself was in, the bad feelings he had made him understand that James and Mark were in danger. And if he even stopped for a second to take a rest, he would start getting panic attacks. At least he thought they were panic attacks. Whatever they were, they made it so he couldn't breathe right and it made him feel like there was something seriously wrong with his heart. It was not a pleasant feeling to say the least.

_I need more clues, _he told himself_. Clues are needed…need the clues. Can't find the clues. They're hiding. Like the wolf. He hides in the darkness. Blood. Blood dripping from his mouth. Or is it a she? Maybe a hermaphrodite. Like that Lady Gaga supposedly is. Can't read my, can't read my, no can't read my poker face….blah blah blah blah blah._ He shook his head and tried to sort his thoughts into what he needed to be thinking and what voices needed to be shut off. But it wasn't as easy as he needed it to be. His thoughts had already gotten away from him, and without Cooper, James or Mark around, he really had trouble reeling them in by himself.

His stomach growling insanely loud startled him just a little bit. He rubbed his tummy and sighed. He needed to eat something. He reached into his pocket and searched for some money. All he found was some lint and his knife. He couldn't buy food with that...but then again, buying was overrated. Stealing was much more effective.

But suddenly something happened that made him forget about his hunger completely. He felt a pair of eyes watching him very closely. He looked around casually, trying to ignore how hard and fast his heart was beginning to beat. He spotted a blue 1996 Buick Park Avenue was just sitting on the side of the road several blocks down. The eyes felt like they were coming from that direction. _Think….think….I have to think. What do people do on TV and the movies? They look at stuff with the cars. What is it? Numbers. It has to do with numbers. License plate! The numbers there. And something else. D…M….V….whatever the fuck that is. Uh….Dicks Mighty Vagina? No, wait, that's not right. Oh yeah: Department of Motor Vehicles…I think. Oh well, that sounds better than the vagina one._

Repeating the license plate number over and over again under his breath, Connor quickly headed to the library. He knew he needed to act quick because the wolf was going to strike at any time. The only reason he hadn't yet was because there were a few cop cars near them and doing anything in front of them would be too risky. Connor knew most other people would go straight to those cops, but he had been taught to never trust the police and he wasn't about to start turning to them now. It could just lead to them finding out what his family did for fun and then they would all be screwed.

When he got to the library, he went upstairs to use one of the computers. Cooper had taught him how to use one a few years ago and it was one of the few pieces of knowledge he had bothered to remember. He liked computers. They were fun. Humming under his breath, he got himself on to the DMV database. Now he wasn't one hundred percent sure about the legality of what he was doing. Cooper tended to hack into a lot of places that he wasn't supposed to and everything Connor did on a computer was stuff he had watched Cooper do a thousand times. But legal or not, it didn't take him long to find what he was looking for.

_The wolf has a face and a name. That's good…I think._ Connor wrote down the information he needed and then got on to his email account. He didn't actually have his phone with him, so calling Cooper wasn't an option. And neither was going home; the wolf was still coming for him and he wasn't going to lead it to his brother or Snoopy. He didn't want them to get hurt.

The email he ended up sending to Cooper wasn't all that long but it got the point across.

Patrick Wolfe. 3427 Harrison Street. 1996 blue Buick Park Avenue. Bad man has Daddy and Mark. Coming for me. Probably you too. Keep Snoopy safe. If he gets hurt, I will kill you.

Connor quickly sent the message and logged off the computer. He was about to get up when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He jumped out of his chair and turned around to find himself face to face with Patrick himself.

"Isn't that a bit girly for you?" Patrick asked, lightly running his fingers along Annabelle's locket. "I mean seriously—"

Connor growled and quickly bit Patrick on the hand without a second thought. The wolf didn't get to touch his mommy's locket. Nobody got to touch it except him, James and Cooper. And maybe Mark when he was being good.

Patrick let out a yell of pain, causing all kinds of attention to be drawn to them. Connor bit down even harder, Patrick's blood filling his mouth. There was one thing he could do better than the rest of his family: biting. He bit so hard that Cooper actually had told him that he wasn't allowed to do it during sex anymore. The last time he had done it, Cooper actually needed to get stitches put into his shoulder.

Knowing he couldn't just keep on biting forever, Connor released Patrick's hand and made a break for it. Down the steps, out the front door, down the street—Connor was running as fast as he possibly could. He didn't know exactly where he was running to. He was just running to get away from the big bad wolf.

One wrong turn later though, and he found himself at a dead end. "Shit shit shit!" he cursed. He went to double back but something hard struck him behind the ear, making his equilibrium go all to hell. He fell to the ground, feeling his own blood run down his neck. He tried to get back up to his feet so he could at least try to defend himself, but two more quick and hard blows later, he was out cold.


	7. Blazing a Trail

"Turn here." Cooper said

"I know where we're going." One thing Tom hated was a backseat driver. "I have been here before."

"Well, fuck me." Cooper slouched in the back seat and refused to say anything else until after they'd arrived.

"Pack whatever you think you'll need because I dunno when we'll be comin' back." Tom turned into the driveway and brought Jeff's Corvette to a coasting stop.

Cooper and Jeff ran inside. Tom waited outside, his eyes peeled for any signs of trouble. _Fucker ain't gonna grab Cooper as long as I'm around._ But, just to be safe, he reached into the car's glove box and took out the automatic pistol that he always kept inside.

Quickly checking to see if it was loaded, and it was, Tom placed it into his waistband. One of the nice perks of one of his previous jobs was that it had been required of all personnel to have a firearms license as well as a carry concealed permit. Even though Tom hadn't worked for the company in question for over two years, he still kept up with the necessary paperwork and it was times like this that he was glad he did.

That little chore being completed, Tom waited. Nothing out of the ordinary, except for a blue Buick parked across the street. Tinted windows prevented him from seeing inside, but something about the car set off his internal alarms so while he made a scene out of checking the air in his tires, he committed the license plate number to memory.

……..

Patrick gripped the steering wheel of his car so tightly that his fingers and knuckles were turning completely white. He had tried to take several deep breaths and closed his eyes several times to deny himself the image he was seeing. Cooper had to be here alone. The Lawsons were loners, too stubborn to take help from anyone. Cooper was supposed to be all alone right now so he could get taken too and Patrick's real fun could begin. The torture and the extermination of the Lawson clan couldn't really get started without the oldest boy.

"I cannot believe this shit," he muttered under his breath. Just a few short months ago, he had watched James steal Jeff from Tom and Tom start a thing up with Mark. He had also watched James try to kill Tom on one fateful wrestling show, and he knew how truly close Tom had come to dying. That was why, for the life of him, he could not understand Tom and Jeff's logic for helping Cooper. And if he didn't understand their logic, he couldn't accurately predict just how far they would go to help Cooper. And if he couldn't predict that and think of a way to counter it, then he didn't have the amount of control that he felt that he needed. And without that control, he felt powerless.

That was not a way he liked feeling at all.

He let go of the steering wheel and grabbed his gun. He knew that the smart thing to do would be to just forget about Cooper tonight and go after him a different time. Tom and Jeff couldn't always be with him. But as much as that made sense, he couldn't bring himself to do it. Connor had already put him in a foul mood with the whole biting thing earlier (he had the hand heavily wrapped and even though he hadn't seen a doctor about it, he was positive the little shit had caused nerve damage) and he could not handle his plans being ruined by two of the three Hardys. _I must remain calm, I must remain calm. I'm still in control, this glitch means nothing…well, it does mean something. It means I'm going to have to eliminate Tom and Jeff from this entire equation._

………

With one eye still on the car, Tom gazed at the mansion. Just pack some shit for Cooper and let's get the hell outta here. The longer he stood in the open, alone, the more uneasy he got. He knew that just by agreeing to do this, he was putting both himself and Jeff at risk as well.

...

"Are you sure everything's gonna be okay?" Cooper asked, rapidly stuffing clothes into a suitcase, then running into the next room.

"It will be if you hurry up." Jeff paced the room.

"Just a couple more things." Cooper ran down the hall, into James' and Mark's room, and Jeff heard the sounds of dresser drawers being opened and shut quickly.

Jeff stared out the window of Cooper's bedroom that faced the front of the house. Tom was leaning against the side of the corvette, a lit cigarette dangling from his hand, his cell in the other one.

While Jeff was wondering who Tom could possibly be talking to at a time like this, his own phone rang.

"Enigma."

"Hey, lover." It was Tom calling from outside. "I see you're standing in the window... Cooper almost ready?"

"Almost. He said something about a couple more things." Jeff replied

"Good. You see that blue car across the road?"

Jeff indeed did.

"Strike you odd where it's parked? Every driveway nearby is empty, yet this guy parks on the street."

"Dunno. Maybe."

"Ask Cooper if any of the neighbors drive a blue Buick Park Avenue, would you?" Tom extinguished his cigarette and scratched his lower back, or at least that is what he wanted it to seem like he was doing. In reality, he was flipping the safety of his pistol in case his growing suspicion about the owner of the car was true.

"Hey Cooper," Jeff shouted down the hall. "Tommy wants to know if any of Mark's neighbors drive a blue Buick Park Avenue."

Cooper came back into the room and stuffed a wad of hundred dollar bills into his suitcase. It was James' emergency money, and if this didn't count as an emergency, then nothing would.

"I don't think so."

"He doesn't think so. Tommy, is everything alright?" Jeff's voice squeaked slightly.

"Grab his stuff and let's go. We are getting the fuck outta here." Out of the corner of his eye, Tom had seen the driver's window lower an inch or two and something protrude from inside the car. It looked like the barrel of a gun.

_This is bad._ Tom opened the driver's side door as well as the driver's side passenger door before getting in, shotgun at the ready, and sitting down, but with his feet dangling outside. That put him in the perfect position to fire his weapon, if it was needed, Tom being a left-handed shot.

Five seconds later he was glad he did when Cooper and Jeff came out of the house.

"Tommy, what..."

"Get in the fuckin' car!" Tom shouted. Two seconds later, three shots were fired from the direction of the Buick. "Now!"

Jeff scrambled into the driver's seat, Cooper launching himself across the back seat. The bullets ricocheted off the inside of the driver's door, narrowly missing Jeff's hand when he pulled the door closed.

"Fuck the doors, just drive." Tom fired two shots at the car, shattering the driver's window and hopefully buying them time.

Jeff backed out of the driveway and took off at top speed down the street. He realized what Tom was getting at when he'd alluded to fucking the doors. At the speed he was going at, they closed by wind currents.

"What the fuck is goin' on?" Cooper demanded, raising his head to look out the rear window.

"Stay down!" Tom demanded, looking in the rear view mirror in case the blue Buick was following them. He couldn't see it, but that didn't mean a damn thing. "Whoever was in that car is probably the same person who's kidnapped Mark, James, and I'm willing to bet Connor as well."

"Shit balls!" Cooper yelled. "I coulda been fuckin' killed back there!"

"I don't think so." Tom let his guard down just a little. "I've come to the conclusion that your enemy has bigger plans for you than a simple drive-by. Those shots were probably meant for me and Jeff."

"EEK!" Jeff squealed

"Don't worry. You drive and you stay down. Whomever it is made a mistake today and that one mistake is gonna cost 'em." Tom kept one eye out of the rear window. Once they were airborne, they could relax, but until then, who knew?

...

Cooper sank down on to the bathroom floor with his cell phone and his laptop. They were at a hotel room at the moment, and Tom and Jeff were watching television. Snoopy and Lizzie were currently at Jeff and Tom's neighbor's house, and Tom had made sure to call them and tell them to watch out for the blue Buick. Personally, Cooper was so desperate for any kind of family company that he had wanted to bring Snoopy with him. The dog had given him such a sad look when it had been dropped off that he almost pulled a Connor by throwing a tantrum until he was allowed to bring the beagle with him, but luckily he stopped himself from doing anything that pathetic. He didn't care if he was rattled to his very core about this whole thing; he had to maintain some resemblance of composure.

Still, there was something that needed to be done. He hadn't gotten around to it before because this had all happened pretty quickly and this wasn't something he did on a normal basis. But since normality had been thrown out the window, he was going to talk to the only family he had left.

He was going to call Glenn.

"Come on, come on, answer your fucking phone," Cooper muttered. He let Glenn's home phone ring about thirty times before giving up and trying the Big Red Machine's cell phone. That rang three times and then went to voice-mail. "Damn it Glenn, why aren't you answering any of your phones?" he asked as soon as he was able to start leaving his message. "Look, some serious shit has been going down during the past day…or has it been two now? I can't even keep track of shit anymore because I'm freaking the fuck out." He took a deep breath in an effort to try to calm himself down. "Look, I'm coming to the show tomorrow with Tom and Jeff. I need to talk to you, okay? Dad, Connor and Mark are in big, big trouble and I need your help. Please, just fucking call me back when you get this."

Hanging up his phone, Cooper turned up his laptop. He would much rather be out hunting the man who had snatched his family away from him, but seeing as how that tactic more than likely got Connor caught and given the fact that James and Mark, both legitimate badasses had gotten kidnapped, that tactic was only going to lead him to trouble. If he was going to avoid being captured and get his family back, he needed to not only up his game, but change it.

_Well, until I have that bastard at my mercy. Then it'll be time to go back to the usual ways and kill him as brutally as possible._

Without even realizing what he was doing, he got on to his email account. What he saw made his jaw drop. He had an email from Connor. Gulping, he quickly opened it up and read the message. Patrick Wolfe. 3427 Harrison Street. 1996 blue Buick Park Avenue…oh my God!

Connor had found the mother fucking jackpot on this guy. The name, the home address, the car…Cooper had never been so proud of his baby brother in his life. His mind racing at a million miles a minute, he got himself on to the DMV database and managed to find a picture of this Patrick guy. The most remarkable thing about him was the fact that there was nothing remarkable about him. Average height, weight, features….he didn't look like the type to fuck with three current serial killers and one retired one.

_Still…appearances can be deceiving. I of all people should know that._

"You are so fucking dead," he muttered, glaring daggers at the picture on his screen. He set the laptop aside and got up to his feet. Now he knew who to watch out for and where to start looking at least. But was the address Connor had given him the one that Patrick was keeping everyone at? If it wasn't, would it give them clues to his family's real location? Or would it just be a dead end? The questions slowly but surely began to drive him crazy and he suddenly couldn't take it. Screaming with rage, he punched the bathroom mirror over and over again until it shattered into pieces, cutting the shit out of his own hand. Not even feeling the pain or realizing he was bleeding, he began hitting and kicking at the walls next, imagining that they were Patrick and wanting to break them like he was going to break Wolfe's face in. He got so carried away that he completely forgot that he wasn't alone and there were two very startled people right outside the bathroom door.

Tom looked at Jeff. He was clearly concerned about the thumps and sounds of broken glass coming from within.

"Cooper, "Jeff said quietly "Are you okay in there?"

The banging stopped and the door opened a crack. "Yeah, I'm fuckin' fine." Cooper snarled

"Okay... just checkin'." Jeff knew enough to leave the any Lawson alone when he had that look in his eye. Tom, however, was not nearly that easily put off.

"Bullshit." Tom pushed the door open a little further and saw the damage to the bathroom. "If you're fine, then I'm hetero... and I know NONE of us wants that."

_Gotta stop bein' so fuckin' obvious._ "I can handle this." Cooper forgot who he was trying to fool. Tom was a master manipulator, both in and out of the ring, who knew more about psyching people out than was good for him.

"Would you mind trying to get a hold of Glenn again? I think Cooper and I need to set a few ground rules."

"No hurting." Jeff took his hands out of his pockets.

"I promise," Tom replied. Cooper said nothing.

Tom stepped into the bathroom and faced Lawson. He took a moment to look around at the busted mirror, the cracked wall tiles, the blood dripping from Cooper's hand to the floor, and wondered just why he'd bothered caring in the first place.

"If you're gonna ream my ass, get it over with." Cooper obviously didn't care about getting blood on his clothes.

"Just chill. I ain't gonna ream anything." One more look at the room was enough. "The only way you're going to stay out of trouble is to keep a low profile. No more psychotic episodes, okay?"

"Fucker's gonna pay," Cooper growled.

"I'm sure he is." Tom agreed. "But we don't wanna make it too easy for this son of a bitch, do we?"

Tom was right. As much as Cooper hated to admit it, Tom knew exactly where he was coming from and that made him a little more uneasy than the whole Patrick situation.

"Get yourself cleaned up and come join us for dinner. We're ordering in."

"I'm not hungry," Cooper said immediately.

Tom glared at him. "You need to eat."

"Why do you even care?" Cooper snapped. "I don't even get why you're getting yourself and Jeff involved in this mess. If it wasn't for Mark, you would have told me to go straight to hell. "He shook his head and picked some of the glass out of his hand. "You don't give a shit about Dad or Connor."

"Well seeing as how Daddy Dearest tried to kill me, I think I have the right to not give shit about him," Tom replied, not bothering to deny that. "But I don't mind Connor—"

"Oh yeah, great, you don't mind him," Cooper said sarcastically. "I'm glad you don't mind him. At least you don't have to be worried out of your fucking mind about him."

Tom sighed. Damn it, why did calming a Lawson down have to be so fucking hard? He started to say something else when he heard a loud series of knocks at their door.

"That was fast... I didn't..." Cooper said uneasily.

Jeff suddenly squealed loudly.

"I didn't." Tom pushed Cooper aside and threw the door open. "Oh, fuck."


	8. A Firey Rage

"Oh, fuck...? Is that any way to greet your blood kin?" Matt was standing in the doorway.

Jeff blushed. Tom was thankful that Cooper was still in the bathroom, hopefully cleaning himself up. The last thing he wanted at that particular moment was for Matt to see Cooper with blood on his hands; that would just lead to more explanations. Matt would find out soon enough.

"Sorry, Matt." Tom apologized. "I completely forgot that we were gonna get together before the show."

"You forgot?" Matt asked, a hint of disbelief in his voice. "It was your idea? How the hell could you forget, bro?"

"Tommers' n' I've had a lot on our mind recently." Jeff jumped to his husband's defense. "It slipped."

"Whatever... well I'm here, whatter we doin'?" Matt didn't seem notice that there was luggage scattered around the room or if he did, then he was ignoring it.

Tom looked at Jeff, who returned the gaze. Both of them hated keeping secrets from Matt, but they were both a little unsure if they should involve their brother in what was quickly deteriorating into an out-of-control situation.

"Matt, I think you better sit down." Tom made a split-second decision. The way things were going he was going to find out one way or the other, and it was probably best that he hear it first-hand.

"Why? What's wrong? Don't tell me you two are breaking up again!" Matt furrowed his forehead in worry. He'd only finally gotten all the residual angst out of his system after the last time they'd split.

"Nothing quite as serious as that." Tom walked over to the once-again closed bathroom door and knocked on it. "You cleaned up?"

Matt's eyes opened a little wider when he heard a muffled voice from inside. They opened even wider still when the door opened and Cooper stepped out, his hand wrapped, but telltale trails of blood still on him.

"What the hell is he doing here?" Both Matt and Cooper shouted at the same time.

"Sit down Matty, Coopy." Jeff said "Until the food and beer arrives, we have to do something."

_Nobody calls me Coopy and lives._ Muttering to himself, Cooper sat down on one side of the bed, Matt in a chair in the corner. Jeff sprawled on the other side of the double bed, while Tom stood by the window, an eye peeled for a certain blue Buick. They were far enough away, he hoped, to at least allow them a moment's respite.

"I'm assumin' that one o' ya is gonna tell me exactly why he's here." Matt pointed at Cooper, who pointed his middle finger right back at him. "Or have you both gone wacko and forgotten the events of the past six months?"

"I haven't forgotten, believe me. I wake up with a reminder every day." The scar had faded, but the emotional scars went much deeper. Tom still had the odd nightmare about the attack.

"Then what?" Matt demanded

"There's a fuckin' homicidal maniac who's already kidnapped Mark, James, and Connor, and is comin' for me next! His name is Patrick Wolfe, he lives at 3427 Harrison Street, and he drives a 1996 blue Buick Park Avenue..." Cooper took a deep gasping breath.

Matt, Jeff, and Tom stared at Cooper, stunned by the sudden outburst.

"You know who it is? How?" Jeff broke the silence.

"Connor sent me an email." Cooper replied "My little brother used his head for once instead of his fists." He was still extremely proud of what Connor had done, but he seriously hoped it wouldn't become a habit. That would take all the fun out of their relationship, both emotionally as well as crimping their sex lives.

"I promised Cooper I would help him out," Tom explained to Matt.

"Not that you care all that much..." Cooper muttered.

"We've been through that already. I'm sure Matt knows my personal feelings about those involved." Tom rolled his eyes a little. It was getting more complicated by the second.

"So what does that mean?"

"You're fucked just as much as the rest of us." Cooper replied.

"Interesting choice of words." Tom mumbled.

"Fucker knows who I am. After that shitstorm at the house, I'm sure he's recognized the two of you, and if he's anyway smart, he'll know that there are three Hardy brothers..." Cooper's voice halted in mid-sentence when the door was banged upon.

"Bathroom!" Tom ordered.

"Fuck that. I want a piece of that shithead!" Cooper was expecting Patrick.

"I'll save you a piece if it's him, but I doubt he's that stupid." Tom snapped his fingers and Jeff took his cue to push Cooper off the bed and toward the john.

"Fine, but I am not hiding in the crapper every time someone shows up!" Cooper complained, but allowed himself to be dragged inside. Jeff followed. Tom took one last peek out the window, no Buick, blue or otherwise, before vaulting the bed to stand beside the bathroom door.

"If it's the pizza guy, pay for it and I'll get you back as soon as he's gone." Tom told Matt, opening the door to the bathroom and stepping inside.

"But what if it's this Patrick guy?" Matt swallowed nervously. This was not what he expected from a Hardy Boys' get-together. It was usually just food, booze, music, and occasionally hot sweaty sex. Answering the door when a revenge-seeking lunatic might be waiting on the other side was totally different.

"If it is, don't worry. There's four of us and one of him. Just duck when the bullets start flying." Tom closed the door, leaving it open just a hair so he could see into the room.

Matt gulped noisily and opened the door.

"You ordered the four extra large?" The man on the other side looked like a normal pizza delivery guy, but Matt supposed that it wasn't that hard of a disguise to pull off.

"Buddy, you okay?"

Matt blinked rapidly. "Yeah man... sorry, I dozed off for a minute. Jet lag."

"Just got in?"

"Yeah. How much do I owe ya?" Matt just wanted to pay for the pizza and get back into the room. Even just standing with the door open made him feel like a target.

"Sixty-one-oh-three." The deliverer seemed to take his time answering.

Matt's senses felt like they were on a hot plate, bubbling with every sound, every bit of movement. He thought he had done a good job of keeping it under control, but it was noticeable to at least one other person.

"You sure you're okay?" The pizza guy seemed almost as anxious as Matt was trying not to be, which only made it worse.

"Yeah I'm fine. " Matt took three twenties and a five from his pocket and handed the money to the man. "Keep the change."

"Thanks..." The door was abruptly slammed in his face. "...for the tip."

Matt leaned against the door, his breath coming in short gasps.

"He gone?" Jeff was the first one to leave concealment.

Matt nodded. He suddenly rushed into the bathroom, pushing past Tom and Cooper, and only pausing to drop the pizza boxes on the bed before getting sick into the toilet.

"Whatsamatter? Matty can't handle possibly staring death in the face?" Cooper sang through the door.

Matt raise his pale face from the toilet. "Asshole," he mouthed, before emptying the rest of his stomach's contents into the porcelain.

"Cooper... chill the fuck out, okay?" Jeff requested. "We sorta sprung this on him."

"Not my fault." Cooper mumbled.

"Actually, you did... you were the one who rambled on about everything all at once. I was gonna break it to him gently." Tom opened the top box and grabbed a slice.

"Well, you trust me n' Tommy, and since we trust Matty, you also trust Matty." Jeff added, smiling sweetly.

"That's like sayin' my dog has four legs, my table has four legs, so my dog must be made of wood." Cooper dismissed Jeff's attempt at reason with a wave of his hand.

"Works for me... you okay in there?" Tom shouted toward the bathroom. The only reply was a flush. Seconds later, Matt stepped out, still a little pale, but not nearly as deathly white as when he'd run in.

"Yeah, fine." Matt sighed

"I know it's a lot to stomach." Jeff groaned at Tom's inadvertent bad pun. "But as long as we stick together, things will work out."

Matt dove in, and for the next two hours, the current situation was forgotten. It became just like a regular Hardy night, only with a Lawson thrown in, and fucking thrown out.

...

Mark winced as he heard Patrick yelling and cussing up a storm upstairs. The asshole had come back in an absolute rage, and he had already taken it out on them once. Mark had gotten whacked repeatedly with a crowbar and the shit shocked out of him with a taser while James's arms had been stretched to the point where either one more twist of the handle or one honest to goodness escape attempt was going to cause ligaments and muscles to tear, the shoulders to pop out of the sockets and maybe even some broken bones. Connor hadn't been on the receiving end of anything yet, but that was because whatever Patrick had been looking for to use on Connor was not down there.

And besides from that, Connor still wasn't awake yet.

"This isn't good," James muttered, his voice pained and anxious. "Marky, he shouldn't still be out after this long. He should have woken up by now."

Mark shook his head. "Dude, we have no idea how long either of us were out after getting dosed with that stuff. He could—"

"But what if he didn't get dosed?" James asked. For the first time since Connor had run away from home when he was twelve after a fight with Cooper and James, James was officially freaking out. "He's not us Mark. I don't think this asshole would have had to use any drugs. He could have—"

"Owie," Connor moaned miserably, cutting James off. The younger man, who was tied to a chair just a little bit a ways away from his dad, began to finally stir. "My head….it hurts…" He groaned and it took him a few minutes to realize that Mark and James were in the room with him.

"Connor?" James said slowly. "How bad does your head hurt?"

"Really bad," Connor complained. He sounded like a small child who had just skinned his own knee. He pulled against the ropes that kept him tied to the chair. "Daddy I want to go home."

"I know, I do too," James said. "But Marky and I are still trying to figure out how the fuck we're going to make that happen."

Mark winced as Connor's breathing began to quicken. That might not have been the best thing to say to him at the moment. "Connor calm down," he ordered. The last thing they needed was for the boy to start hyperventilating on them.

"The wolf hit me," Connor whined, ignoring Mark's order and becoming more and more distressed by the minute. "On the head. With something hard. And it still hurts. My head feels fuzzy and weird."

'Oh great, he probably has a concussion,' Mark thought to himself. 'That is not fucking good.'

"Connor listen to me," James said, trying to get Connor to focus. "Where was Cooper when Patrick took you? Was he somewhere nearby?"

Connor shook his head. "No," he said miserably, wincing because his own action of denial had made his head hurt worse. "I snuck out when I was supposed to be sleeping. Everything was driving me crazy and I couldn't take it." He went quiet for a minute, obviously still not well from what was probably a concussion. "I saw the car following me. I went to the library and the computer told me who he was. Patrick Wolfe. 3427 Harrison Street. I got the message to Cooper. Then the wolf came for me. Touched Mommy's locket and I bit him. Ran away….ran to a dead end and then got hit." He whined in distress as he looked down at his own chest. "Mommy's locket isn't on me anymore."

"Mommy's locket?" James said in confusion. "How did you get that? I had it in my—"

"It fell out," Connor said miserably. "I found it in the place the wolf took you away. I had it on but it's not on me anymore." He seemed to be becoming more and more distressed about the fact that the locket was gone instead of being distressed about the fact that they were currently in the clutches of a maniac.

The door burst open and Patrick came down the stairs. In one hand he had a pair of pliers and the other he had Annabelle's locket. Mark saw the looks on James and Connor's faces and he knew that a line that shouldn't ever be approached had just been crossed. Touching that locket without permission….well Mark could only imagine what was going to be done to this asshole now. James killed anyone besides him and the boys for even daring to try and touch it.

"Are you boys looking for this?" Patrick asked, dangling the locket in front of them in the most taunting fashion. "Huh? Is this what you want?" He dangled the locket in front of James's face, only alive to do it because of James's bound state. "Did Annabelle mean as much to you as Mark does, or did she mean something more?"

James responded by spitting on Patrick. Patrick wiped that away and smacked James across the face before walking over to Mark. "What about you? Did you care about the precious Annabelle at all? Was she special to you?"

Mark glared at the smaller man. "Boy, you have no idea what kind of shit you're getting yourself into by staying on this fucking topic," he replied. Even though he and Annabelle hadn't really gotten along all that well, he wanted that locket out of this fucker's hand. When she had been alive, Annabelle had been the only rock that James and the boys had. Losing her…it was the only thing that almost tore the Lawsons apart for good.

Patrick ignored Mark's words and went over to Connor. "What about you?" he asked, the anger coming back into his voice as he did so. "Huh? What about you Connor? I think you owe me an answer, seeing as how I have to fucking hang this mostly off my wrist because you fucking bit me."

Connor growled and glared daggers at their captor. "You let go of my mommy's locket," he said in a low and dangerous voice. "NOW!"

Patrick smirked. "No," he replied, moving the pliers closer to Connor's face. "I don't want to." An evil look flashed across his face. "You know, since your mother didn't teach you that it wasn't nice to bite, I think I might have to help in that department."

Mark saw the way Wolfe was holding those pliers and he suddenly knew what was going to happen. Both he and James let out a yell and Connor struck again, managing to get his teeth down around Patrick's already injured hand. The maniac screamed in pain, and he began hitting Connor upside the head with the pliers. Connor refused to let go at first, and soon the struggle caused Patrick to shove Connor back and the both fell to the floor. Mark struggled against his chains and judging from James's yells of pain, he was trying to get free too. Patrick's body on top of Connor's prevented them from seeing just what exactly was going on, but Connor's muffled sounds of pain didn't sound good. And then the really loud yelp he let out made Mark see red. He didn't even want to begin to think about what James was feeling or thinking at that point. That would just be too fucking scary.

Patrick whispered something into Connor's ear before getting back up to his feet. The pliers and locket were still in his hands but now he was holding on to something else as well. Mark clenched his fists together tightly, breaking the skin in his palm with his own fingernails.

The fucking bastard was holding up one of Connor's teeth.


	9. Crispy Critters

"Are you sure you're not gonna get into trouble?" Cooper asked for the tenth time since they'd left the hotel.

"Cooper, if you don't stop asking that, I'm gonna leave you by the side of the road and let Patrick have his way with you." Tom glared from the seat beside. "We've been over this. Just stick with Jeff 'n me and no one will give you any trouble."

At least that's what Tom hoped. After Randy's kidnapping ordeal, WWE had beefed up their security requirements and limited the number of people that were allowed backstage. Even wrestlers that weren't scheduled at the show were sometimes banned, not that it would've prevented Evan and Jack from doing what they'd done.

"What do we do if they don't let Cooper backstage?" Jeff worried aloud. "Anyone who would think that we'd miss Randy's return to the ring has shit for brains."

"Amen to that, li'l bro," Matt replied. It had taken almost a year of counseling, and constant support from both the Orton and Hardy families before Randy's psyche had healed sufficiently. If anything good had resulted from it, it was that Cowboy Bob, Randy's father, had finally accepted that his son was both gay and completely in love with Matt and vice-versa. It didn't take a genius to see that, but after the sleepless nights that Matt spent by Randy's side, the hours of crying he'd endured, it had even broke the Cowboy's tough heart.

They turned into the arena and parked their rental car.

"Try to look nonchalant," Tom said. "The last thing I need is a hassle." He was still carrying his gun. Even though he'd already unloaded it, just the sight of a gun could cause a lot of unnecessary questions to be asked.

"Hey, there's Randy..." Matt squealed with delight. He ran from the group and threw himself into a bear hug with his boyfriend who was leaning against the loading dock having a cigarette.

"Wha?" A brief flash of panic crossed Randy's face before recognition set in and he returned the hug. "Matty, you made it!"

"After everything you've been through, I wouldn't miss this for the world." Matt broke the hug and kissed him noisily on the lips.

"Matt's boyfriend." Tom whispered to Cooper, who was staring impolitely.

"Anyone in the WWE not sleepin' with one of their coworkers?" Cooper demanded with a sardonic smirk. "You 'n Jeff, Mark and Dad, these two..."

"When you're away from family as long as we are, you take what you fuckin' can get." Tom punctuated this with a peck to the cheek of Jeff, who screeched in surprise.

"Guys, come on!" Matt waved at them. Randy and Matt entered the arena, hand in hand, the other three a few paces behind.

"I gotta find Glenn," Cooper whispered.

"That won't be too hard." Tom stated. The Big Red Machine was in catering, demolishing a good-sized hoagie.

As soon as Cooper laid eyes on him, his face lit up He had actually been wondering if Patrick had gotten him too. "Glenn! Glenn! Crispy Critter!" he shouted, running toward him.

"Cooper?" It was blatantly obvious by the tone of Kane's reply that he hadn't received Cooper's or Jeff's messages. "What the fuck are you doing here?"

"What the fuck am I doing here?" Cooper repeated. "Didn't your big red ass get my messages?"

"Sorry, kid, but my phone's been dead. I left my charger at home." Glenn chomped down on his sandwich.

"Oh..." Cooper stared at the floor. He'd hoped Glenn would've already agreed to help and maybe even be willing to crash the address Connor had sent him before needing to be asked.

Glenn lifted Cooper's chin. "Oh?" he repeated. "Oh what?"

Cooper didn't say anything. He honestly didn't trust himself to open his mouth and not either freak out again or break the fuck down.

"Hey, Hardy!" Glenn shouted over.

"What?" Jeff and Tom responded at the same time, then looked at each other and laughed. "Jinx... you owe me a beer." Jeff added with a giggle.

"You mind if I take Cooper for a bit? I think he wants to spend some time with his uncle." The last statement was added for the benefit of the wiseguys in the locker room who'd love to start gossiping about how Kane was seen taking a good-looking stud into his private locker room just before a show.

Jeff looked to Tom, who nodded agreement. "Fine, Glenny." Jeff sang

They watched Glenn and Cooper until they were outta earshot, then started their own stroll; searching for Matt and Randy.

"You thinkin' what I'm thinkin'?" Tom rubbed the scar tissue on the side of his neck lightly.

"Prolly not... you hate Skittle pancakes," Jeff replied.

"Mm," Tom grunted, then suddenly grabbed Jeff and pulled him down a side corridor. "Not even close. I'm wondering what, if anything, should be said to Randy."

"About what?" Jeff asked.

"About anything," Tom answered.

"Mebbe we should leave that up ta Matty?" Jeff replied.

"Second-smartest thing you've said all week." Tom ruffled Jeff's locks. "Let's go find him."

"Tommy..." Jeff twined their hands.

"What, hon?"

"You said that was the second smartest thing I'd said... what was the first?" Jeff grinned sweetly at Tommy.

"That would be I love you." Tommy pulled Jeff close for a quick cuddle. "Now where are those damn locker rooms?"

...

"Seriously Cooper, what the fuck is going on?" Glenn asked. "You look like you've been put through the wringer."

"No, a fucking wringer would be more pleasant," Cooper muttered. "This has been a clusterfuck of epic proportions." He told Glenn everything about what had been going on since Mark and James's anniversary (leaving out the old lusty feelings for Jeff and the new ones for Tom—that was a topic he didn't even want to start to approach), ending with the reading of the email Connor had sent him before he was taken. Glenn listened to every word carefully, his expression completely stoic and unreadable. "Well?" Cooper said impatiently once he was done explaining everything.

Glenn just continued to stare at him for a minute before shaking his head. "He's got all three of them?" he said incredulously.

Cooper rolled his eyes. Oh Lord, they did not have time for this! "Yes damn it!" he said angrily. "This asshole has taken all of them!"

Glenn sighed. "What do you want me to say Cooper? Nothing like this has ever happened before. It's kind of hard for me to wrap my head around it."

Cooper leaned against the wall. "How do you think I feel? I mean, nobody has ever fucked with us like this before. This isn't some drunk looking for a fist fight. This Patrick guy targeted us on purpose."

"Yeah and he's fucking insane to do it," Glenn said. He looked around to make sure they weren't getting eavesdropped on. "Are you sure he's acting alone on this? James and Mark…well I have trouble matching them in a fight and I can fight with the best of them."

Cooper shrugged. "I don't know," he admitted. "I'm pretty sure this guy is working alone for now, but I could be wrong." He ran his hand through his hair. "I have to get them back Glenn. I can't just keep hiding and avoiding trouble like this. I have to fucking do something."

"I know you do," Glenn said. He understood the way of the Lawsons better than anyone besides Mark. "And I'll help you get them back. But for the moment, playing this Tom's way is the best thing you can do. If Wolfe is going through all the trouble to make sure he nabs each and every single one of you, then the longer you stay out of his reach, the longer we can probably guarantee the others living."

Cooper folded his arms over his chest. He was really tired of other people saying that he needed to lay low. Just once he wanted someone to say fuck this laying low shit and go in guns a-blazing with him.

Glenn sensed what Cooper was thinking and shook his head. "Cooper—"

"I'm not stupid," Cooper said, stopping the lecture in its tracks. "I know what I want to do is only going to get me captured. You don't need to tell me that again." He knew damn well they needed to figure out if this Patrick was truly working alone or not and they also needed to figure out when and how they could catch him off guard. "But Glenn, you don't get it: Dad and Connor—they're not okay. I can feel it in my gut and it's driving me insane."

"What about Mark?" Glenn asked.

Cooper shrugged. He wasn't close enough to Mark to really know in his heart when his biological father was hurt. "He's probably in big time pain as well for all I know." He stuck his hands in his pockets. "I know Dad's tough and all and he can take just about anything but Connor…Connor's just a baby." _I'm the one who's supposed to watch out for him, but I failed completely at that this time._ He didn't say that last part out loud but that still didn't make the guilty feelings go away.

Glenn sighed and hugged Cooper. Cooper didn't hug back, but he didn't push his uncle away either. He was too busy trying to control his anger, which was starting to be fueled with the guilt he was feeling. Normally he was the best one at controlling himself besides Mark, but that wasn't the case at the moment. He had been pushed beyond his limits and something had to give. It was going to have to give very, very soon.

……..

"Any nerves, man?" Matt asked, watching Randy get ready for his big return. He was facing his former Legacy stable-mate Ted DiBiase.

"Now that you're here, no." Randy laced up his boots. Even though their stable of the Four Aces had disbanded many months ago, Randy was still going to wrestle in their ring gear, the only change being the removal of the logo from the back of the leather jacket. "I just gotta focus on DiBiase and Rhodes."

"Don't worry about Cody. I'm in your corner tonight." Matt sprung this unexpected bonus on his former tag-team, but current life, partner.

"Awesome!" Randy beamed broadly.

"Mister Orton... DiBiase and Rhodes are making their way to the ring... you're on in two minutes."

Cody and Ted (the original Legacy, at least in their minds) strutted down to the ring.

"The Legacy has arrived!" Cody proudly announced to the capacity crowd in attendance. "But we hate to be kept waiting. After what we did to Matt Hardy here last week, I wonder if he has enough hair on his ass to challenge us again..."

"Nah, you showed him last week Codeman exactly why we are the most dominant multi-generational superstars in the history of the WWE." Ted interjected "But Matt said he had a surprise for us, so Hardy, bring your ass on down here!"

Matt stepped out in his street clothes, leading the crowd to correctly guess that he wasn't getting in the ring against DiBiase.

"Did I hear correctly? Did you two just call yourself the most dominant multi-generational superstars in the history of the WWE?" Matt repeated

"Yeah." Cody shouted

"I seem to recall winning the match last week." Matt answered "But I guess in your world, dominance means jumping someone when their back is turned."

The crowd booed loudly. Cody and Ted soaked it in, seeming to get off on the negative reaction.

"I will give you a little bit of credit. You are right about one thing. I don't have enough hair on my ass to challenge you again tonight. (Anyone who has seen THS "Win the Shot, Call the Spot" will agree with that statement!) But I have someone here who is not only willing to challenge Ted to a match, but he will prove when he defeats you who the most dominant multi-generation star in the WWE is."

"Bring him out then," Ted gloated.

Matt crossed his arms, waiting for the music to hit.

**Hey!**

**Nothing you can say**

**Nothing's gonna change what you've done to me...**

Cody and Ted aged ten years in five seconds when the former Legacy leader stepped onto the stage. With a nod to Matt, he strutted down the ramp Matt at his heels.

……..

Patrick was on the hunt again. But he wasn't on the hunt for Cooper. No, that plan had to be temporarily abandoned. Jeff and Tom had taken him to the arena and now Glenn was getting involved as well. He hadn't heard the entire conversation between Glenn and Cooper, but the Big Red Machine was definitely getting involved. And now that they all knew who he was and were on the lookout for him, he couldn't play this the way he had before. There was no way he could get to Cooper all by himself. He was going to need some serious backup.

"Fucking nosy shits," he muttered under his breath as he pulled up to a nightclub on the very outskirts of the city. This was not supposed to be happening. He hadn't bothered with Glenn because in his stalking, he had seen that the man more famously known as Kane didn't really get along with James and the boys that well. In fact, there was a definite intense dislike between James and Glenn. That should have taken the bald headed bastard out of the equation, but apparently that wasn't the case. And as for Tom, Jeff and now Matt…yeah, he still didn't understand the Hardy's logic. But he officially did not care anymore. If they wanted to be involved in this, they were going to get taken out, just like Glenn was. It was as simple as that.

He went into the club and went straight to the back room. The security guards let him through because they knew who he was. His cousin Tim owned the place and even though Tim hated him, he was let in because the little weasel didn't want any trouble. And if Patrick didn't get what he wanted, then trouble would be coming right to Tim's front door.

Patrick found Tim with three strippers back in his "office". "Hey there Timothy," Patrick said pleasantly. "I need a favor."

Tim's face turned an ashy shade of pale. He knew how Patrick was and he was terrified of the psycho. "What do you want?"

Patrick took a step forward and Tim and the girls all flinched. "You got any boys to spare?" he asked. "Ones that will do what I say when I say it and not ask any stupid fucking questions?"

Tim gulped. "Look man, I'm not—"

"A simple yes or no will be enough Timothy," Patrick said, getting impatient with his younger cousin. "I don't have time to listen to your bullshit."

Tim sighed and pointed a door off to the right. "I've got some in there. Please Pat—"

Patrick walked away from Tim and opened the door that had been pointed out. Inside the room was a pool table, a bar and six very large and very tough looking dudes. He grinned evilly, knowing he had just hit the flunky jackpot. "Oh yeah baby," he muttered. "This is going to be fun."


	10. Burning with Desire

Patrick stared at the six men in front of them. They had all stopped what they had been doing and they were staring at him like they were ready to take him out if Tim asked them to. Luckily Tim was too stupid and afraid of Patrick to ask any such thing. In fact, he told the men to listen to what the homicidal maniac had to say just so he could get him out of there as soon as possible. "You pay them well?" Patrick asked, already knowing the answer to the question. He was only asking because watching Tim twitch during their conversations was funny.

"Of course," Tim said, leaning against the wall and not act like he was nervously wringing his hands together. In an effort to put the attention on the flunkies, he started telling Patrick their names. "Sean, Taylor, Dan, Jon, Lester and Cliff. My best problem solvers should be able to do anything you ask them to."

_Well no shit they should be able to,_ Patrick thought to himself, a little bit annoyed with his cousin for saying the obvious. _If they can't, then I'm going to have to kill them and get my money back._ "The best huh?" he said, resisting the urge to say what he was thinking out loud. He looked at the men and smirked. "Well if you boys can get the job done, I'll pay you triple what Tim over here is paying you."

That definitely got the flunkies' interest. Tim had very deep pockets and the triple the amount times the six people involved…well, it was going to cost an obscene amount of money to get this done. But Patrick wasn't one to worry about financial stuff and if he had to spend everything he had getting the problems out of the way so he could get to Cooper, then so be it. He would make sure it would be worth it in the end.

Patrick reached into his pocket and pulled out some pictures he had printed out awhile back. "There are four definite problems that are in my way and one that might decide to get involved. Just to be safe, I want all five of them taken out of the picture." He grinned just a little bit. "Now you can take that any way you want to, but I'm hoping you take the most extreme meaning from that and make sure these fuckers get buried six feet under the fucking ground.

"Dude, I fucking recognize these guys," Jon said, looking over the pictures. "Aren't these guys wrestlers?"

"Yes," Patrick admitted. "Will that be a problem?"

"No," Jon replied. "I've always wanted to kill someone famous."

"Excellent," Patrick said. If he had human emotions, he would have liked Jon already. "Now for those of you who don't know, the targets are Glenn Jacobs, Tom, Matt and Jeff Hardy and Randy Orton. Now I can't say for sure if Randy will be a problem, but I've done my homework and he's dating Matt, so there's a good chance he will involve himself in this if Matt is doing the same thing. And even if he isn't, going after him will still send a message to Matt." Patrick pointed to the picture of Tom. "Now he will more than likely have a gun so—"

Every single one of his new flunkies immediately reached into their belts and grabbed their own guns. Patrick looked at them and chuckled. "Of course. I should have known that wouldn't be too much of an issue." He took one more picture out of his pocket. "This is the man they will be trying to protect. His name is Cooper Lawson and he's the one I'm after. I want him for myself, so that is the one I want you to leave relatively unharmed."

"Pat, what are you doing?" Tim asked. "Have you lost your mind? Do you have any idea how dangerous it is to target these wrestlers? If they go missing or wind up dead, it's going to be a big deal."

"First of all, if you want to keep your tongue, do not ever call me "Pat" again," Patrick growled, glaring daggers at his younger cousin. "Second of all, this isn't any of your concern. I'll worry about the consequences of what I'm doing. You worry about your stupid little club and not pissing me the fuck off."

Tim looked down in defeat, clearly worried about what Patrick might do to him if he kept pushing his luck.

Satisfied, Patrick looked at his new "friends". "You guys have any questions."

Six heads shook to indicate that they didn't.

"You guys ready to do this then?"

Six heads nodded.

"Okay then. Let's get this show on the road."

...

Glenn, Tom, and Jeff had gathered in one of the locker rooms to watch the match between Randy and Ted as well as keeping their promise to keep Cooper surrounded by people as much as possible. Cooper was still itching to take Patrick out himself, but at least for the moment he was focused on the match instead of his personal vendetta. That however didn't stop him from staring at the door every time someone entered or exited.

"Cooper, you gotta chill the fuck out," Glenn whispered. "Patrick ain't gonna be that obvious."

_I wish he would be. Then I could teach that motherfucker what happens to people who mess with the Lawson clan._

……..

The whole focus of Randy's recuperation was to get back in the ring. It was the one thing (other than his relationship with Matt) that kept him going through the tough times of the past months. Now everything was falling into place. He was back in the ring, Matt at his side, and he was moments away from his return.

"Ring the bell!" The ref shouted and it was on.

Randy and Ted circled each other, waiting for the moment to strike. Being former tag-team partners made it difficult as they both knew each others moves and tendencies like he backs of their respective hands. After a minute of playing cat and mouse, Randy decided that the best defense would be a great offense, so he lunged at Ted, going low and tripping him with a leg sweep. Ted rolled with the move and was back on his feet in seconds, smiling at Orton.

"Alright, Randy, good start!" Matt cheered from ringside.

"Same old Randy." Cody shouted to his partner. "You can take him easily."

Matt immediately turned to glare at Rhodes, who returned the stare. Their unspoken messages to each other was perfectly clear. "Don't even think about doin' anything stupid."

Randy looked to his partner, then back at his former partner, and a familiar gleam came to his eyes. He remembered from a match that he had against Ted that he was quite vulnerable to attacks to his left side due to a nagging shoulder injury that had refused to heal properly. The viper in him kicked back in and he went right after it. Armbar after armbar, wristlocks, half-nelsons, quarter-nelsons, Randy used everymove in his arsenal to weaken the joint. He would've liked nothing better than to make DiBiase tap out in his first match back.

...

Cooper squirmed in his chair. A small part of him wondered if Patrick might not stoop to James' level and attack either Matt or Randy during their match. Visions of Tom lying on the arena floor, blood pouring out of his slashed throat didn't exactly haunt him, but they did put his current situation into a little more perspective.

"This boring you?" Tom whispered, not to disturb the rapt attention both Jeff and Glenn were giving to the monitors.

"Fuck, no," Cooper lied. Unless Jeff was in the ring, Cooper didn't care much for it. Not even Mark or Glenn's matches were high on his list of priorities. "I just gotta piss like a motherfucker."

"Well, go," Tom replied "This isn't kindergarten. You don't have to raise your hand."

"I thought one of you would wanna come with me. Y'know, make sure nothing happens." By Cooper's tone, he was being sarcastic, but his words made sense.

"You want me or Uncle Glenn to take you?" Tom clearly didn't want to leave Cooper alone by any stretch of the imagination, but taking the young psychopath to the potty was not something he'd anticipated.

"I don't care. Just hurry up before I piss all over the floor."

"Glenn?" Tom asked.

"Go." Glenn waved his hand at Tom, clearly tied up watching the match. "This is getting good."

"Fine." Tom grabbed his gun, which he'd set down beside him, and reloaded it with a cartridge also beside him. "Let's go." He tucked the pistol back into the waistband of his jeans, then covered it with his shirt.

Like the obedient son (well…as obedient as a Lawson could possibly be), Cooper followed Tom down the hall, past catering.

"Hey Tom, didn't see you arrive." Jay and Adam were scarfing down cold cuts at one of the tables.

"I'm like the wind that way."

"You ever gettin' back into the ring?" Adam asked

"Maybe one day," Tom responded. Although he'd initially burned a few bridges when he'd gone back into action without telling Stephanie his plans, he'd managed to sweet-talk her into getting back into sales once his injury was healed. He now worked specifically for merchandising, and was in charge of all the arena souvenir stands.

"Cool... Jay and I were talking and we'd like..."

"I hate to cut you off, but I gotta take my... nephew to the men's room before he has an accident." Out of the corner of his eye, Tom saw Cooper hopping from one foot to the other.

"Later." He grabbed Cooper's arm and pulled him to the bathrooms, which were fortunately nearby.

"Nephew?" Adam and Jay asked at the same time.

"Other side of the family!" Tom shouted.

...

"C'mon Randy, bro, make that spoiled brat give up." Jeff was on the edge of his chair, watching the match progress. Orton had been relentless in his attacks on DiBiase's arm, working it and the shoulder with one excruciatingly painful hold after another. Yet, the second generation superstar refused to quit, several times having to rely on the ropes to break the hold, only to be dragged back into the middle of the ring to have the hold reapplied.

Cody had seen enough and jumped on the ring apron.

While the ref was distracted with Cody, Ted mule-kicked Orton in the crotch. He fell, cupping his testicles. This gave Matt a chance to jump in and sneak up on Ted.

"Leave his man-parts alone. They're mine!"

A small chuckle escaped Ted's lips, but then he realized who had said it. He turned around.

"Mine, I tell you." Matt executed a twist of fate on Ted and was out of the ring while the official was still otherwise engaged. Eventually he turned around to see both men on the canvas in differing degrees of pain. He began his count.

"One... two... three..."

At eight Randy got to his feet, the pain in his balls subsiding to the point where he could continue. With Ted still dazed, Randy crouched like a snake waiting to strike. The crowd sensed what was coming and started to cheer.

Ted's recovery lasted about ten seconds. He got to his feet, then was dropped with a perfectly-placed RKO. The count was made, and there was nothing Cody could do to prevent the outcome.

"Here is your winner... Randy Orton!"

...

"I guess we missed the end of that one." Tom said, leaning against the wall in the men's, keeping one eye on the door and the other eye on Cooper.

"Whatever." Cooper answered. The results of the match were not what was bothering him.

"Look, I know what's goin' on with you. You gotta fuckin' trust us, okay? Glenn, Jeff, we've all told you the same thing so you gotta know we know what we're talking about."

This time Tom had a little better success calming Cooper, or at least he would have if that's what had been bothering the young man. But since that wasn't the case, Cooper just clammed up even more and reached into his pocket and he fingered the knife he had stashed in there. He stared at the floor, the pattern on the tiles getting all fuzzy and looking all weird and stuff.

Tom snapped his fingers in front of Cooper's face. "Cooper? Jesus Christ, what the fuck are you doing?"

Cooper shook his head, trying to regain his composure. But the guilt he was feeling was becoming way too fucking much to handle and he leaned up against the wall because that was the only way he could stay on his own two feet. He put his hand further into his pocket, purposefully wrapping his hand around the blade of his knife and squeezing as tightly as he could. The pain was enough to distract him from the downward spiral his mind had been heading down and he was able to breathe a little easier again. "I'm fine," he muttered, taking his hand off of the blade of his knife. He could feel the blood gushing out of the deep cut and then he was suddenly reminded of the fact that Connor always used to lick the blood off any cuts he got and that made him feel miserable all over again.

"You don't look fine," Tom said, not buying Cooper's lie for a second. "You look like you're about to pass out. He reached out to touch Cooper's shoulder.

"Don't fucking touch me!" Cooper said, using his good hand to slap Tom's arm away. "I said I was fine!"

"Lawson, how fucking stupid do you think I am?" Tom asked. "You can't fucking fool me dude."

Cooper glared at Tom, his temper starting to get the best of him. "Don't fucking call me Lawson," he growled. "You don't have the right to do that just because you used to fuck Mark."

Tom shrugged. He'd been through mood swings with Jeff before so this was nothing new, but Cooper did not seem like the hugging type. "You know..."

"Just leave me alone!" Cooper snapped, absolutely needing to take his anger out on someone. "You can help me get my family back but just don't fucking talk to me."

Tom raised his eyebrows. "I really doubt that's what you actually want Cooper."

Cooper let out a yell and threw his hands up in the air, revealing the fact that his one hand was injured and bleeding. "Stop that! What is with you fucking Hardys? Jeff gets Dad obsessed with him, Mark fucks you, Dad gets so jealous of you that he tries to kill you on national television, I can't watch a fucking match with your twink husband in it because it makes me want to fuck his brains out—"

"Don't call him a twink," Tom said, giving Cooper a good glare. "You sound like James when you do that."

"Good!" Cooper replied. "I hope it drives you as crazy as you drive me! You…you…Dad is going to fucking kill me when he finds out I fucking like you of all people!"

Tom snorted. "Yeah, I seriously doubt that. Knowing James, he's going to cure you of that little problem by trying to kill me again."

Cooper knew that was probably true, but that actually failed to make him feel better. He didn't want James to kill Tom. He tried to tell himself that he did, but deep down, he really didn't. And the fact that he didn't want that freaked him the fuck out. "You Hardys are really fucking infuriating. Are you aware of that?"

"We're infuriating? Have you taken a good hard look at your family tree buddy?"

"Yes I have. And I'm very well aware of how fucked up we are, thank you very much. You Hardys don't help a fucking thing though." Cooper looked at his hand, knowing that wasn't the best idea in the world. At this point, the sight of his own blood was enough to awaken his own bloodlust, which was not something he wanted to do in front of Tom. It wasn't so much that he was afraid he would accidentally try to kill Tom; no, he wasn't that far gone. But if the bloodlust got him hot and bothered like it sometimes did, then Tom was the last person he wanted to get that way around.

Tom rolled his eyes and grabbed some paper towels. "Damn Lawsons always find a way to blame someone else for their problems," he muttered under his breath. "It's never their fault for anything…"

Cooper jumped back like he was about to be set on fire when Tom came at him with the paper towels. "Have you lost your mind?" he asked. "What in the blue hell do you think you're trying to do?"

Tom stared at him like he had gone completely insane. "I'm trying to clean your hand off. In case you haven't noticed, you're bleeding like a mother fucker."

"Well then I'll clean myself up," Cooper said, taking a couple steps back just to be on the safe side. "I'm not fucking stupid. The last time a Lawson fell for the Hardy charm, everyone got insanely stupid and jealous and the sex that went down between everyone was not worth the fucking trouble that you guys all went through."

"First of all, I think you've already fallen for the Hardy charm," Tom pointed out. "Twice. Second of all, I wouldn't be so quick to say that about the sex. I'm sure if you ask—"

"Just shut up!" Cooper ordered, snatching the paper towels out of Tom's hands. He was careful not to make skin to skin contact just in case making skin to skin contact with Tom made everything worse. As badly as he wanted to give in to his urges, he wasn't going to do that. He was truly Mark's son in the respect that he could at least try to show some fucking restraint, which was a word that James rarely knew the meaning of.

Tom watched Cooper put pressure on the wound. "You've got to learn to come to terms with your feelings Cooper. You're going to go even crazier if you don't."

"Oh bite me Hardy."

Tom smirked. "You wish Lawson."

Cooper scowled, partly because he was annoyed at Tom and partly at himself because he thought that smirk was hot. _Damn it, the only way to sa__ve my sanity at this point is if I do pull a James…but God help me, I can't. Ugh. I need to get Dad and the others back because if I spend too much more time with these Hardys, I'm gonna do something really fucking stupid._


	11. Deal or no Deal?

Connor whined as he tried to get free from the ropes that were keeping him tied to the chair. His tongue kept probing at the space where his tooth used to be and that made him flinch almost every time he did it. Patrick had threatened (quietly so Mark and James hadn't heard him) to pull out a tooth every time he tried to bite from now on. Connor didn't doubt that the meanie would do it. Patrick was bad, the pliers were bad and he, Mark, James and Annabelle's locket were not safe. Cooper wasn't safe either, but he at least was a lot better off than they were. _He better be taking care of Snoopy. _Connor thought to himself as he continued his quest for freedom._ If my puppy gets hurt then everyone is going to have a serious fucking problem._

"You're going to get rope burn kid," Mark pointed out. He was doing his best to stretch a bit because he was getting cramps from sitting on the floor so long. "And that's going to hurt."

Connor didn't care. He had to get out of the chair. The rope was too tight and it was making him all itchy. And that itchiness was driving him completely over the edge. He really did not think he could take much more of it.

"James, we really need to come up with a plan," Mark said, realizing that Connor didn't give a shit about rope burn. "We can't just wait for Cooper to swoop in and rescue us. For all we know, this asshole already has the poor kid and he's just not revealing that to us yet so we can get our hopes up about him getting away."

James didn't say anything. He hadn't really talked since Patrick had taken off again. Sometimes he tried to yank himself free from the rack thing but otherwise he hadn't really been doing much.

"Lawson!" Mark said again, getting really pissed off really fast. "Are you fucking listening to me?"

"Yeah," James replied. "But what the fuck do you want me to fucking do Mark? I can't even feel my fucking arms. Either you or Connor is going to get free and then get me off of this thing."

"Dude, I am chained to wall with chains that are not budging any time soon," Mark snapped. "And Connor....well damn it James! Start thinking about getting us out of here!"

Connor growled. Mark obviously didn't think of him as being capable to get them out of this. Mark had never really credited him with much brains. Actually, nobody did that. But he didn't need to be a smarty pants to get them the fuck out of this. He just needed to get a little creative and have some good, old fashioned luck. With the memory of what Patrick said to him still fresh in his brain, he managed to bend over just enough to start biting at the rope that bound his wrists to the arm of the chair. He couldn't bend over enough to get a good strong bite on it because he had some rope around his chest and stomach, but he could reach enough to start nipping at the stuff on his wrist. And for now, nipping was just going to have to do.

"Connor?" James said. "What are you doing?"

Connor didn't answer him. There was no time. Since he could only nip, it was going to take him awhile to make this work. Patrick had gotten some pretty strong rope and made the plan that much more difficult.

The sound of approaching footsteps made Connor sit back up. Just seconds later, the door opened and Patrick came back in. He had a pair of brass knuckles on both of his fists and he was whistling happily. "Hello boys," he said, stopping just long enough to punch James in the face before stopping in front of Connor. "What have you been up to?"

"We've been plotting to take over the world," James said sarcastically, spitting out a mouthful of blood.

"Excellent," Patrick replied, not missing a beat. "You want to know what I've been up to?"

"If you haven't caught AIDS from your pet monkey, I really don't care to hear about it," Mark snapped. "What about you James?"

"I'm with you Marky," James agreed.

Patrick pretended to pout. "Aw, I'm all sad now." He looked down at Connor. "What about you? Do you want to know what I've been up to?"

Connor didn't say anything. He really didn't care, but he didn't want to say that in case a vital tooth ended up coming out of his mouth because of it. He needed all the teeth he could get at this point.

Patrick decided to take that as a yes. "I've been busy recruiting. Now do you know what recruiting means Connor?"

"You've found people stupid enough to take orders from you," Connor said before he could stop himself. He was getting really annoyed with people acting like he was an ignorant child. The next person that did it would be suffering from very serious consequences...if he could get untied of course.

Patrick laughed. "That's one way of looking at it. But those "stupid" people are going to mow down Glenn, the Hardys and Randy Orton so there'll be nobody left between me and Cooper."

Connor clenched his mouth shut. He wanted to yell at Patrick to stay away from his older brother, but he knew it wasn't going to do any good. Patrick was going to do what he damn well pleased and Cooper was in big trouble.

"Well? What do you think?" Patrick asked.

Again, Connor didn't say anything. He wasn't going to give this fucker the satisfaction of getting a reaction out of him.

Patrick snarled and punched Connor in the face as hard as he could. Connor's head rocked violently to the side. Patrick was stronger than he looked, but with the brass knuckles on, that had felt like one of Cooper's punches. "Come on Connor, what do you think? Speak up you little shit! I'm not talking to myself here."

Connor shook his head. He wasn't going to talk. He didn't feel like it. Of course, that just pissed Patrick off more. He began hitting Connor in the face with a series of rights and lefts, dislocating the helpless man's jaw and breaking his nose. The blood that came out of Connor's nose came down and got into mouth, which actually got him excited. He was sure that Mark and James weren't feeling the same way, but that was their problem.

"You fucking little freak," Patrick snarled, pulling on Connor's hair and yanking his head back. "You fucking answer me when I say something to you! You understand me?"

Connor grinned insanely and began to laugh. It wasn't a normal laugh though. It was a freaky, high pitched, screaming kind of laugh. It actually made Patrick take a step back because he didn't know how to respond to it. "We're gonna kill you," Connor began to sing in between the waves of laughter. "We're gonna kill you. We're gonna kill you..."

…..

"Awesome match." Matt congratulated Randy with a quick kiss on the mouth as soon as they were out of public view.

"Thanks, man. I was so fuckin' nervous out there, but I don't know why," Randy lied. He was nervous, yes, but it wasn't because it was his return to the ring. It was because Matt was so close the entire time. If love could be seen, then waves of it would've been radiating from Orton toward Matt. With each passing day, Randy fell more in love with him, if that was possible.

Out of the corner of his eye, Matt saw Tom and Cooper heading for their locker room. Tom looked a little more concerned that he had when Matt had last seen him, and Cooper was sporting a heavily bandaged-hand.

"Be right back, babe." Matt jogged over to Tom. "What the fuck happened?"

"Nothin," Cooper barked. "Why does everyone assume that something happened? Shit balls, I'm fine."

"He's fine," Tom agreed. "Just felt a little light-headed, that's all."

Cooper stared at Tom. _Fucker's gonna get us all fucked over if he doesn't find a better use for that big mouth of his... fuck fuck fuck._ A specific use for Tom's mouth crashed into his brain, making Cooper's vision go all fuzzy again.

"Okay," Matt answered. "But he looks like he just saw a ghost."

Tom looked over and caught Cooper just before he crashed to the floor.

"Musta lost a lot more blood than he let on," Tom mumbled. "Gimme a hand with him."

"Just stay the fuck away from me!" Cooper yelled. "I'm not fuckin' six years old!"

"You sure fuckin' act like it sometimes." Remembering how Cooper had rebuked any earlier attempts at contact, Tom quickly released his arm. Cooper wobbled a little, but for the time being remained upright.

"I wish you'd stop acting like my fuckin' father," Cooper growled

"Someone has to." Matt muttered

"What the fuck did you just say?" Cooper turned his anger to Matt, who stepped back. Randy came over when Cooper took a couple menacing steps toward Matt.

"Stay the fuck away from my man, you asshole." Randy got right in Cooper's face. To Matt and Tom's astonishment, Cooper backed down.

"Well, screw you too," Cooper retorted. He was not afraid of Randy by any means. He just knew that if he started a fight right now, someone in the room was going to end up on the wrong end of his knife, and then he would have even more problems than he did already.

"What the hell is your problem?" Randy asked. "Dude, I dunno who the fuck you think you are..."

"He's one of the reasons Mark succumbed to blackmail," Tom stated.

"He's the demonic hellspawn?" Randy sniggered. "Doesn't look so tough to me."

_I'll show you tough, motherfucker. Just try me._ Cooper reached for his knife again.

"Can we all just chill out... please?" Tom pinched the bridge of his nose. "Matt, take Randy to our locker room. I think Cooper needs a time-out."

"What's up with him?" Randy asked while walking away with Matt.

"I'll tell ya later." Matt debated whether or not to bring Randy into this scene. He was already involved, against his initial wishes, but if this dude was as bad as people thought, getting his boyfriend messed up in this would be a disaster of Titanic proportions.

"Fuckers," Cooper groaned

"Y'know, I have just about fuckin' had it with you." Tom pushed Cooper against a wall. "I've tried to be a nice guy..."

"No one asked ya."

"Good. I'm withdrawing the offer. You can deal with this shit on your own. I don't care anymore. Have fun since you're probably outnumbered right now." Tom walked away, returning to the locker room and immediately throwing a chair across the room.

"Trouble in paradise?" Matt asked.

"I'm out," Tom replied.

"What do you mean you're out?" Jeff asked.

"I mean I am finished being a nice guy when it comes to anyone named Lawson. If that son-of-a-bitch wants to take on the entire world, then he has my blessing. For what it's worth, this Wolfe character can make him into his personal sex-slave..."

Cooper kicking the door open interrupted Tom's diatribe. He stormed into the room, walked right up to Tom, and punched him in the face. Not one to turn down a fight, Tom swung back. Before the others could react, they were brawling throughout the locker room.

Glenn jumped in first. Being the only one who could handle Cooper one on one, he pulled the smaller man away, while Jeff and Matt tended to their brother.

"Let me fuckin' go, Crispy Critter." Cooper struggled to break Glenn's vice-like grip. "This isn't about you."

"No, it's about a little twit named Cooper who can't act like a human being long enough to realize that he's not alone in this world" Glenn whispered in his ear.

"I am not a twit!" Cooper glared into Glenn's eyes, temporarily forgetting that he was staring at one of the three people on the planet that he couldn't intimidate: Mark and James being the other two.

"Then stop acting like it." Glenn glared down. "Why don't you just pretend you're grateful that there's a group of guys willing to forget the past to protect your sorry behind?"

Cooper wrenched himself from the grip of the Big Red Machine.

"Would someone please tell me just what the hell is going on?" Randy looked on bewildered. "Other than you acting like total imbeciles, I really have no clue."

Tom pulled out of Matt and Jeff's collective grasp and brushed his arms off. "Don't look at me... I'm out, remember?"

"Some mofo named Patrick has kidnapped Mark, James, and Connor... Cooper's little brother," Jeff responded to Randy's question. "And we're gonna get them back... at least we were until Tommy became a poopy-pants."

"I love the mature way you put everything into context." Tom stifled a laugh. Calling someone a poopy-pants was rapidly becoming Jeff's favorite insult.

Jeff stuck out his bottom lip. Tom groaned; he knew what was coming.

"This's all your idea... Tommy, we need you... pweeease!" he begged

"I'm not the one who became the poopy-pants... oh God, did I just say that?" Tom slapped himself across both cheeks.

"Yes you did," Jeff giggled, his hands on his hips. "Now are you gonna be nice Tommy or do I have to turn into mean Jeffy?"

"What exactly is 'mean Jeffy'?" Tom asked.

"No sexy time," Jeff replied. "It's all your hand from now on."

"There's two holes in your theory. The first is that you'd end up losing 'cause you can't resist this" Tom pointed at himself. "And even if you could, I'm sure there are a lot of others who'd kill for an hour with the Sultan of sucking." He looked right at Cooper when he said this.

Cooper gulped loudly. His restraint was wearing away fast. "I don't have fuckin' time for this!" he yelled. "If it'll make you happy, I'm sorry for being such an asshole, okay?"

Tom stared at Cooper. Those were the last words he'd ever expected to hear from the elder Lawson boy.

"Well? Ain't you gonna say somethin'?" Cooper demanded.

Tom pursed his lips, running his tongue along the bottom of his upper teeth. "If Patrick is smart, he's probably recruited some uglies to help him out. All we have to do is keep the numbers in our favor."

Cooper sighed. So Tom was back in then. Great. Now he just had to find Patrick and get his family back so all would be fucking right in the world again.

.........

"Guys, I don't fucking like this bullshit," Lester announced the group. They were outside of Tim's club, getting ready to start the job Patrick wanted them to do. The only thing was, some of them were starting to have a problem with it. It wasn't really anything to do with them being against the idea of killing the wrestlers. No, their issue was rapidly becoming about pride. "That fucker Patrick thinks he's fucking better than us. Did you see the look he had on his face? He thought we were scum."

"Well we are paid thugs," Cliff pointed out. "I'm sure some people consider that to be pretty fucking scummy."

"I don't care!" Lester insisted. "We should have ripped his fucking head off."

"Well we didn't do that," Sean pointed out. "And as much as I want to do that too, we're all about to become thirty thousand dollars richer just for killing some stupid people who prance around the ring in tights. What more do you want?"

"More money," Taylor spoke up.

Lester looked at Taylor in interest. "You wanna pump more cash out of Patrick?"

Taylor nodded. "We take the Cooper kid and tell Wolfe that he ain't getting the mother fucker until he triples the already tripled price. And then, when we get the money, we kill both Wolfe and Lawson."

"What about the wrestlers?" Jon asked. "Are we still killing them?"

"Actually, we should hold off on that," Dan pointed out. "The WWE is a billion dollar corporation. Think of what we could get out of them for all those precious little wrestlers."

Lester grinned. He was starting to like this idea a hell of a lot better. "So are we agreed then?" he asked. "Will this be a capture mission first?"

"Sure," Cliff said. "I'm for that."

"We still get to kill people later on though, right?" Jon asked eagerly. "After we get the money?"

"Of course," Lester said. "Why would we do it any other way?"

They all laughed, very satisfied with themselves now. "Okay then boys," Dan said, getting into the driver's seat of his car. "Let's fucking do this shit!"


	12. Cooper Lawson: Adrenaline Junkie

"So what exactly is our plan here?" Glenn asked. "I mean, I know we have the address that Connor sent to Cooper here, but are we sure that's where this Patrick guy is actually keeping Mark and the others?"

Cooper shrugged. "No," he admitted. "But we really don't have anything else to work with, do we? I'd rather try to go to his place and stake it out so if Dad and them are in there, we can just get them out."

"You know that there's no way that it'll be as easy as you're making it out to be," Tom pointed out. "He could be there--"

"Oh I hope he's there," Cooper interrupted, trying to keep his temper in check so he didn't start an argument that would force him to apologize again. If he ever had to do that again, he was going to shoot himself right in the head. He wasn't joking. He wouldn't be able to live with himself if he had to do it again. "I really do."

Randy raised his hand. "Question: if this guy took Mark and your family, what makes you think that you can take him on?"

Cooper grinned despite the validity of the question. He knew there was no way that Patrick took James, Mark and Connor completely by himself. Even if he didn't have any flunkies when he got them, there were still things like guns, tranquilizers and other stuff like that he could of--no, HAD to have--used to get the others. And there was a good chance that he would still try to use those things to get Cooper. But Cooper didn't really care at this point. The confrontation needed to happen. It wasn't something he could nor wanted to avoid. The others seemed content to hide him, but that was only going to work for so much longer. "You let me worry about that Orton," he said, leaving it at that.

Tom gave Cooper a look before shaking his head. "You're planning to do something stupid, aren't you?"

Cooper shook his head. "I'm not planning anything. I'm just coming to a few realizations."

"And those would be?"

"Nothing you need to concern yourself with Tommy boy," Cooper replied. Without Mark to call "Marky Mark", he needed to find a nickname that irritated someone. Sure Glenn was still "Crispy Critter", but he was used to that by now and it didn't have the same effect as it used to. Now "Marky Mark" on the other hand, would forever irritate Mark, which was amusing to no end.

Jeff giggled a little bit when he saw the look on Tom's face. "Tommy boy," he said under his breath.

Cooper started walking to the door. "So are we going to start trying to end this or what? I'm sure you would all love to have me out of your life as soon as possible and I can tell each and every single one of you that the feeling is mutual."

"Can you now?" Tom replied, mostly just to get under Cooper's skin.

Cooper forced himself to ignore that comment because he wasn't going to waste his time with this shit anymore. He would sort out whatever it was he was feeling towards Tom later if they all didn't get killed. Right now, he had to focus on getting his family back. "You know, since there was that whole shooting incident at my place, Patrick could recognize your Viper," he pointed out. "And if he sees us before we see him, that's going to be a problem."

"We'll take my car then," Glenn volunteered. "It's big enough for all of us."

Matt put his arm around Randy and let the younger man rest his head against his shoulder. "Do we even know why Patrick is doing this? I mean, what the hell are his motives?"

Tom pretended to think about it really hard. "Let's see...geez, with James's people skills, it's so hard to figure out why someone would possibly want to--"

"Can it Hardy," Glenn said, noticing the look on Cooper's face.

Cooper shook his head. Maybe James had done something to Patrick or someone Patrick knew. Maybe he didn't and Patrick was just doing this for some stupid ass reason. Either way, he didn't fucking care. It wasn't going to change what he wanted to do to the fucker. "Come on," he said, getting very fucking impatient with everyone. "Let's continue this little conversation as we move our fucking asses."

The others all exchanged looks before getting up and following him. "You could have said please you know," Jeff told Cooper as they started heading to the arena exit.

Cooper snorted. "Jeff, in case you haven't noticed, us Lawsons aren't known for our manners."

"Yeah," Matt agreed. "You're all known for murdering innocent people."

Cooper smirked. "Nobody's innocent Matt. Everyone's guilty of shit."

"Yeah, well personally, if it weren't for Jeff and Tom wanting to help you, I'd say your dad and your brother could rot in hell."

Glenn intentionally put himself in between Matt and Cooper just in case Cooper decided to get angry about what Matt had just said. But Cooper really didn't care about what Matt thought. Personally, he thought Matt could take his opinion and shove it up his own ass. "You know, Mark's killed more than his own share of people. Do you think he should rot in hell too?"

Matt didn't say anything. Cooper figured that he wouldn't. Just because Mark had retired from active killing (for now anyway), it didn't change anything he had done in the past.

Randy tried to whisper something in Matt's ear but Cooper still managed to catch it. "If we're dealing with a bunch of killers, shouldn't we go to the--"

Cooper stopped in his tracks and turned around to glare at the Legend Killer. "If you're about to say what I think you're going to say, we're going to have a problem," he stated. He didn't try to make it sound like a threat. He just needed Orton to understand that it was a fact.

Randy stared at Cooper, trying not to act intimidated, but failing as Cooper continued to glare at him. Matt stepped in front of Randy while Tom and Glenn grabbed a hold of Cooper's shirt. Jeff looked back and forth between Cooper and Randy, looking scared that something was going to happen. Cooper kept his gaze on Randy for just a tiny bit longer before wrenching himself free from Glenn and Tom's grips. He turned back around and started walking again, opening the exit door up and going outside.

"Lawson," Tom said, quickly catching up to him. "What the fuck was that shit?"

"Hey, he was about to say that the police needed to be called on us," Cooper pointed out. "And I was simply stating that we would have a problem if that happened. I wasn't threatening him."

"And you better keep it that way," Tom replied. "Randy's been through hell and he doesn't need your psychotic ways adding on to it."

Cooper rolled his eyes. He didn't give a shit what Randy had been through. That was his own problem. "Glenn, where the fuck is your car?" he asked, just realizing that he was starting to wander around the parking lot without a clue to where he was actually going.

"It's over here," Glenn said, pointing to a black jeep. "I got it just the other day."

"Sweet," Cooper said. He jogged over it and got in the front seat before anyone else could claim it.

"No fair!" Jeff whined as he, Tom, Randy and Matt got in the backseat. "You didn't call it!"

Cooper smirked. "I think me sitting here called it just fine."

"Tommy!" Jeff whined. "Make him trade me!"

"Jeff, we really don't have time to--"

"Tommy! You're supposed to be on my side here!"

Glenn got in the driver's seat and slammed his door shut. "Buckle up kiddies," he ordered. "I'm gonna drive like a mother fucker and I will be breaking all kinds of speed limits."

Matt smirked. "You channeling Itchweeed or something Glenn?"

"No..." Glenn denied after a long pause.

"Wait, who's Itchweeed?" Cooper asked, feeling like he was missing something.

"Nobody," Glenn said, starting the car and pulling out of his parking space. "Let's just drop the subject."

"Nobody? I ain't nobody boy! I am the master of the weed eater and I demand respect!"

Cooper turned around to see that it was Jeff talking, only his voice was different and he had a crazy kind of look about him that Cooper had never seen before. "What the fuck?" he said in disbelief.

Tom shook his head. "Glenn, did you see what you started? You've turned Jeff into Itchweeed!"

Itchweeed looked at Cooper, who was openly staring at him. "What the hell you staring at boy? You don't got any demons in ya now, do ya? Because I've dealt with the demons before and you can keep that shit away from me. I don't want them back on my ass again."

Cooper blinked a few times before looking at Tom. Tom just shrugged. "He's Itchweeed and he can weed eat like a mother fucker. Learn to embrace it."

_And this mother fucker thinks my family is crazy..._ Cooper thought as he turned back around in his seat. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a truck coming at them really fast. It wasn't Patrick's Buick, but with the speed it was coming at them, it couldn't be anyone good. Cooper tried to shout out a warning, but the truck hit the front end of the jeep before he got all the words out. To add to the impact, another truck he hadn't seen hit the same spot but on the other side. Jeff (or Itchweeed...Cooper wasn't sure who he was anymore) screamed and Tom, Glenn and Matt let out a string of curses. Cooper closed his eyes and clenched his fist. Honestly, was it too much to ask to be allowed to get to Patrick's fucking house so he could find out if his family was there? Did it really fucking have to become this much bigger of an issue?

Cooper's thoughts were interrupted by his door opening and him being yanked out of the car. He opened his eyes and then immediately blinked. He recognized the people attacking their car. He had seen them before. He didn't know them personally, but going bar hopping with James and Mark (and by himself on occasion) had led to him knowing a lot of people purely on reputation. Jon, Taylor, Sean, Lester, Cliff, Dan...they were a bunch of goons that did grunt work for some shithead club owner named Tim...Wolfe! Cooper realized. Tim Wolfe...Patrick Wolfe...holy fucktards, the shitheads are probably related.

A nice hard punch to the stomach snapped Cooper back to reality. "Damn boy, you don't look like much," Dan said, laughing a little bit. "No wonder you needed all these people to protect you."

Cooper scowled. His boiling point had hit the most dangerous level it had ever hit before in his life. Damn it, he wasn't quite as big as James, Mark or Glenn, but he didn't need to be. He was just as tough and dangerous as they were. Letting out a yell, he kicked Dan between the legs as hard as he could before grounding the slightly larger man with on punch. Screaming with his rage, he got on top of Dan and began punching him as hard as he possibly could. Dan was trying to cover himself up but Cooper wasn't having any of it. He could hear the sounds of fights and yelling and Jeff screaming at the top of his lungs, but none of that really mattered to him. He had gone into a rage of James proportions and he wasn't about to concern himself with the others now.

"Patrick sent you here, didn't he?" Cooper screamed, getting back up to his feet and dragging Dan along with him. He kept a tight grip on the back of the older man's head until they got to an innocent parked car. Then he smashed the fucker's head right through the driver's side window. "DIDN'T HE? ANSWER ME YOU MOTHER FUCKER!"

"Yes," Dan groaned, his head bleeding profusely because of the glass.

That did nothing to soothe Cooper's rage. "Where is he now?" he growled. "Huh? Tell me where he is!"

"I don't know!" Dan said, still trying to regain his bearings.

"LIAR!" Cooper shrieked. He sounded so much like Connor at that moment that it actually scared him. "You fucking son of a bitch, tell me--"

Dan used what strength he could muster to shove Cooper away from him. That was the final straw for Cooper. If the guy didn't want to talk, that was fine. Cooper didn't need him anyway. Grabbing his knife out of his pocket with his good hand, he stabbed Dan in the neck with as much force as he could. Blood spurted out everywhere, getting on Cooper's face and hair. Dan made a strangled choking noise as he slowly sank down to his knees. Cooper yanked the knife out before plunging it back in, pushing Dan down on to his back as he did so. He stabbed Dan a few more times, enjoying the very thing that was almost every Lawson's birthright. The blood... the killing...this was what he needed almost more than anything else. The only thing that could make this perfect would be if James, Connor and hell, even if Mark were here (and wishing Mark was around was not something he did often).

Sounds of gunshots made Cooper look up. He saw Glenn fighting Lester and Cliff at the same time. There was a discarded gun about six feet away from them and Glenn now had a rapidly growing bloodstain on the side of his shirt. "Glenn!" Cooper yelled at the top of his lungs. He started running towards his uncle.

Glenn gave Lester a nasty looking uppercut that just about took the thug off his feet. "I'm fine!" he yelled as he delivered a big boot to Cliff's face. "It's just a graze!"

"That don't look like a graze!" Cooper informed him.

"Would you just help the others?" Glenn said in exasperation. He grabbed Lester and Jon by the back of the neck and bonked their heads together. "They'll probably need it."

Cooper skidded to a stop so he could look around. He couldn't see Matt and Randy but he did see Jeff and Tom. Jeff was being dragged away by Jon and Tom couldn't do anything about it because he was struggling in a fight against Sean (who had thoughtfully brought along a tire iron in an attempt to bash Hardy's head in). Being careful to stay out of Jon's peripheral vision, Cooper crept over there and made sure to get right behind the asshole. Jeff was kicking and doing everything in his power to do, but honestly, he was no match for his attempted kidnapper. Cooper however, was not so helpless. He used his bandaged hand to grab Jon's forehead and then slit the fucker's throat from ear to ear. Jon's grip on Jeff immediately went limp and the youngest Hardy was able to get free.

"Cooper!" Jeff gasped after he had turned around. He stared at Cooper for a few seconds like he had never seen him before in his life. Cooper started to roll his eyes, but then he caught sight of Sean managing to catch Tom with a good knock to the head with the tire iron. Tom went down and Jeff screamed, running at Sean like a maniac. Sean saw him coming and hit him with the weapon too. Cooper decided that that was quite enough of that bullshit and he threw his knife as hard as he could, grinning as the blade buried itself into Sean's shoulder and making him drop the weapon.

Not one to waste time, Cooper rushed the stunned man and speared him to the ground. Sean's head bounced off the concrete really hard, dazing him even more. Cooper reclaimed his knife and began the same frenzied stabbing pace he had used on Dan, only this time he started going faster and faster as the seconds passed. To say he was in the zone would be an understatement. He could barely hear Tom checking on Jeff and Jeff saying something about a boo boo. The only thing he could hear properly was the ever growing roar in his ears and the voice in his head telling...no DEMANDING more blood...

........

"Shouldn't we do somethin' Matty?" Randy rubbed his arms, looking like he wanted to jump in.

"Yeah. Keep an eye on anyone named Hardy." Matt was quite happy to stand back and only offer help if needed. The initial advantage that the six thugs, now down to four, had was completely gone without either Matt or Randy having to do anything thanks to Cooper and his knife.

A sudden clang of metal on metal, followed by a shower of sparks, caused them both to duck. Jon had managed to get his gun out, and had it not been for Jeff throwing himself at the thug, the bullet would've ended up in Randy. Thankfully, Jeff jostled his aim just enough that it bounced off the frame of Glenn's Jeep.

"Get down." Matt pulled a pale-faced Orton down behind the car, both of them shaken.

.......

"Cooper that's enough! Come on, this is fucking overkill dude!"

Cooper snarled, turning around and baring his teeth at Tom in an animalistic way. The only reason the knife didn't get swung was because he now had a cramp of epic proportions in his arm. Sean was underneath him, a bloody and mutilated mess. The guy's own mother wouldn't be able to recognize him now in the state he was in. Cooper really had gotten carried away, but he was still too psychotic to care. He spit on the body before getting up and stomping on what was left of the thug's face. "Mother fucker!" he growled, the adrenaline his bloodlust had brought on making him feel kind of dizzy.

"Cooper?" Jeff said hesitantly, taking a step forward.

Tom immediately grabbed Jeff and held him back. "Are you insane?" he asked his husband. "You have no idea what he could do to you right now!"

"But it's Cooper!" Jeff insisted.

"And he's a Lawson," Tom countered.

Cooper ignored them and looked down at himself. His clothes were absolutely soaked in blood...there was a good chance that his shirt and jeans would never be the same again. "I feel better," he announced. He looked around, that better feeling going away about three seconds later when he saw Taylor, Lester and Cliff shoving a very pale body into yet another car and getting in themselves. "Glenn!" he shouted, really not wanting to believe it was him but knowing he was the only person around who was that fucking white. He took off running as the car burned rubber and left him in the dust, which left him in a rage that was rapidly building back up.

"Shit!" Matt yelled. He was coming back over to the group, supporting a very shaken looking Randy. "Cooper we tried to get over there to help but--"

Cooper let out a scream, not giving a shit about what Matt and Randy tried to do. He stormed over to Glenn's car and tried to start it back up. It tried to come to life, but it ultimately failed. Really ready to blow a gasket now, he walked over to the nearest car that was not totally fucked up, broke the window with his elbow, unlocked the thing and got in. "Let's go people! We've got yet another fucking person to save!"

"Cooper that's stealing!" Jeff pointed out.

"Jeff, I just killed three fucking people! Do you really think that I give a shit about a little grand theft auto?" Cooper hotwired the car in just a couple of minutes. He had done this just about every night when he was a teenager and he hadn't lost his touch over the years. He looked at the others, who almost seemed to be afraid to get into the car with him. "RIGHT NOW ASSHOLES! YOU'RE GOING TO HAVE A REAL REASON TO BE AFRAID OF ME IF YOU ARE NOT IN THIS VEHICLE WITHIN TEN SECONDS!"

That prompted them to get their asses moving. Randy, Matt and Jeff got in the backseat while Tom got up front. "And what the hell is this supposed to mean?" Cooper asked in spite of not wanting to give a shit what Tom did.

"That I'm not scared of you," Tom replied curtly.

Cooper grinned. If Tom didn't drive him absolutely nuts, he would be tempted to actually like him. "You're a dumbass mother fucker," he said under his breath, stepping on the gas and burning a little rubber of his own. He didn't understand why the goons had taken Glenn, but he didn't care. He didn't care about them, and he didn't care about why Patrick had taken the rest of his family. The mother fuckers were going to die and he was going to do it his way. No more running, no more hiding...it was potentially stupid and definitely reckless, but it was time for him to embrace the Lawson way and go looking for the fucking fight.


	13. Follow You, Follow Me

Taylor did his best to drive as fast as he could without losing control of the car. It wasn't exactly easy though. Glenn, despite being injured, trapped in a confined space and outnumbered, was putting on one hell of a fight. "Jesus, would you get him under control?" Taylor yelled as the man better known as Kane kicked his elbow and nearly made him swerve into the other lane of traffic. "I can't keep driving when he's doing that!"

"Hold your horses!" Lester snapped. He was doing his best to hold Glenn down while Cliff tried to get some handcuffs on the struggling man. "This isn't exactly going that well you know!"

_Well that's the theme of the night right there,_ Taylor thought to himself as he took deep breaths in an effort to calm himself down. The plan they had made had really gone to hell. Nobody was supposed to die, especially not any of them. But Cooper had proven himself to be completely fucking insane, and had ruined everything.

Glenn kicked Cliff in the chest as hard as he could, just about sending him out the back window. Lester quickly grabbed his gun and hit Glenn several times in the head with the butt end of it. Glenn's struggles stopped and Lester quickly cuffed him. "That's better," Lester muttered under his breath. "You okay Cliff?"

"Not really," Cliff replied, rubbing his head on the spot it had just hit the window. "I am fucking beyond pissed right now. What the fuck happened back there?"

"Cooper is insane," Taylor said, stating what he felt to be the obvious. "He is a killing machine and has no reason to be hiding behind a bunch of wrestlers from the waste of space Patrick."

"I think Patrick is certifiable too," Lester muttered. He started looking around for more rope to tie Glenn up with. "Guys, what the hell are we going to do now? We're three guys down, Patrick wants these wrestlers dead, we want them alive--"

"And I want out of this mess," Taylor announced. His hands were still shaking slightly and his arms felt weak. The fact that he could have been killed too was not lost on him. "This is bullshit. I didn't sign up for this."

"Yes you did," Cliff reminded him. "We all did. We just didn't expect this little bump in the road."

Taylor had a hard time resisting the urge to turn around and smack Cliff. "A little bump in the road? No, the struggle Baldy just put up was a little bump in the road. Three of our friends being dead is more like a fucking ditch in the middle of our fucking road."

"Our plan could still be salvaged Taylor. We just need--"

"No, it's your plan now! I'm out, remember?"

"Don't be such a fucking pussy."

"I'm not being a pussy! I'm being smart, unlike you!"

"Oh why don't you--"

"Everyone shut up right now!" Lester yelled, interrupting the argument. "I'm not listening to this anymore. Taylor, you are not out. You're freaked and I get that. But you need to calm down and let me think of a way to fix this." His phone rang at that minute, making him sigh and take it out of his pocket. "I think it's Patrick," he told them.

"What the hell are you going to tell him?" Taylor asked.

"Lie to him," Cliff said immediately. "Say we're following them now and we're going to hit them in just a little bit."

"Okay then," Lester said under his breath. He took a deep breath and answered the phone. "Hello? Hey. No, we're going to get them soon. We're following them right now. They were leaving just as we were coming in so we stayed on them. Yeah. They don't know they're being followed. No, there are no plans to damage Cooper. We know you want him. Yes. Okay. Alright then, I'll call you when it's done." He hung up the phone. "That man is creepy," he announced. "I think we need to kill him just on principle because there is something not right about him."

"Yeah, that goes without saying," Taylor said, getting a little irritated now. "But seriously, where are we stashing Kane here, and what about the rest of those wrestlers? We can't just keep driving around all night."

"Look, here's what we should do," Cliff said. "We'll take Glenn to one of Tim's hideouts and keep him stashed there. We'll go after those other wrestlers but first we'll make sure to shoot Cooper in the fucking head so we avoid a massacre like last time. Then we take the other wrestlers by gunpoint, take them to where Kane is, shoot Patrick to avoid his bitching and then begin negotiating with the WWE for the safe return of their employees."

"You do realize we're outnumbered though now, right?" Taylor asked.

"That's why we're going to use the guns from the get go and be smarter next time," Cliff countered. He looked at Lester. "What do you think?"

"I'll go with it," Lester replied. "Taylor?"

Taylor sighed. He still wasn't sure about it, but he didn't feel like he had the option of backing out now. "Fine," he said. "I'm in."

……….

Patrick put his phone down and stared at it. Everything seemed to be going well...yet he couldn't shake the feeling that something was going wrong with his plan. Lester had assured him that Cooper and the others were within their grasp, but something felt off. And the part that frustrated him the most was that he couldn't place his finger on what exactly he thought was going wrong. It was like the longer he spent in the basement having fun (well...he was having fun; James, Mark and Connor probably wouldn't use that word to describe what was happening to them), the harder it was for him to think clearly.

"Focus," he told himself under his breath. He rubbed his temples and tried to clear his mind. "Focus damn it." He couldn't let himself get thrown off by James and the others. This plan wasn't going to be able to reach it's final stages until Cooper was in his possession. The victory over James wouldn't be as sweet if he didn't get the bastard's oldest kid too. _It'll just be a little bit longer, he thought to himself. And then I'll have Cooper and the REAL fun can begin._

……..

Randy, Matt, and Tom all grimaced every time Cooper took a sharp turn or swerved to avoid the traffic. Jeff seemed to be enjoying the ride, shouting "Whee!" every chance he got.

"Cooper, would you mind slowing down a little?" Tom hesitantly spoke up.

The look he received in return was enough to melt lead.

"It gonna do no one any good if you get us all killed before you get a chance to rip the heads off the rest of those mother fuckers," Tom added. He didn't fear death; he just didn't want to die in a stolen car doing one-eighty on the freeway.

Cooper reduced the speed to one seventy-five. "Better?" His sarcasm was evident.

"Much," Tom returned the jibe. The car with Glenn and the surviving goons was three ahead of them. "What exactly is the plan?"

"Kill them," Cooper grinned broadly. "Rescue the Crispy Critter, then go teach that motherfucker Patrick what happens when you mess with my family."

"Okay. We have a numbers advantage, you know that?" Tom stretched, an idea forming in his mind.

"So?"

"We could split up. We have Patrick's address. Why don't two of us check it out and leave the other three to follow the stooges?" Tom suggested

"How the... shit balls!" Cooper had to slam on the brakes to prevent turning all of them into street pizzas. Traffic had suddenly stopped dead.

"Everyone okay?" Tom looked into the back seat. Three guys nodded; two of them looking more than a little shaken and Jeff looking a little disappointed. "Can we do that again?" he asked

"Fuck no," Matt retorted. Randy nodded his agreement.

"Well?" Tom snapped Cooper's mind away from his thought.

"Well what?" He barked.

"We gonna sit here with our dicks flappin' or what?" Tom shook his head. _That boy needs to focus... maybe a good case of road head will do that... fuck, what am I thinking?_

"For once, you may have a fuckin' point." Cooper stared ahead, watching the car slowly inch forward.

"I know," Tom stated "You three up for it?" He turned in his seat, one eye on Cooper in case he decided to jump out of the car and take them on by himself. He didn't put it past the young pyscho to do just that.

"I dunno. If the bad mens can hurt Glenn..."

"But there's three of them and there's three of you plus Glenn if you can get him loose," Tom replied. "If it'll make you feel better, here." Tom handed Jeff his pistol, barrel-first.

"Whoa!" Matt shimmied away, almost on top of Randy. "Careful with that, Jeffro. Don't shoot us."

"No, silly!" Jeff mimed firing it. "Just bad mens."

"Yeah. We're unarmed." Randy hadn't said two words since almost getting shot.

Tom looked at Cooper, then his eyes flicked down to his waist.

"Fuck that, Hardy." He growled, knowing exactly what was being asked of him.

"Coop, wouldn't you rather tear that fuckwad's throat out with your own hands? Make him feel real pain before you kill him?"

Cooper smiled. "Yeah." The thought of dipping his hands in Patrick's blood started his bloodlust again. "Fuck, yeah." He sighed, starting to get turned on.

It's so easy to push his buttons. Tom watched as Cooper took the bloody knife from his pocket and passed it into the rear compartment. "Any of you fuckers lose this and I will personally take you out as well!"

Matt took the knife, the disgust clearly evident on his face. "Couldn't you have at least cleaned it first?"

"Bitch, I don't have time to cater to your needs. I'll happily take it back if you don't want it," Cooper snapped.

Jeff was about to ask just how they were expected to follow Cliff, Lester, and Taylor without being spotted, when he saw an empty cab in the next lane. He jumped out, and ran over to it, crouching down so he wouldn't be seen. Moments later, he returned to the car.

"Let's go... Imma got us a cab."

"Nice work. Just be careful," Tom cautioned

"Psh! It's your plan and you're telling me to be careful. C'mon, Matty..." Jeff tugged at his brother's arm. Both he and Randy looked uneasy, but they followed Jeff into the rear of the cab.

"I hope you know what the fuck you're doing," Cooper growled.

"If I don't, both of us are gonna lose family." Tom stared at the cab, a sense of dread pushing at the edges of his mind. No sooner had he said that then traffic started to move again.

"It's about fuckin' time." In seconds, the chase was back on.

"Ease off. Let 'em think they've lost us." Tom pointed to a McDonald's parking lot.

Cooper turned the stolen car in and headed for the drive-thru.

"You're thinkin' about food at a time like this?"

"I always kill better on a full stomach."

"If you don't give the attendant a heart attack when she sees you."

"Can I take your order?"

"Gimme ten spicy chicken sandwiches, two large fries, four order of McNuggets, barbeque sauce, and a diet coke... gotta watch my weight." Cooper laughed. "Anythin' for you?"

"I'll have the same, but make it a coke," Tom replied.

"That'll be sixty-nine sixty-nine. Drive through please."

At the window, the lady did look a little put off by Cooper's appearance. "Is that...?"

"Paintball." Tom quickly interrupted "We lost."

Cooper quickly paid with one of the bills from James' emergency money and took the three big bags of food.

"Pig out while you can. We gots work to do." Cooper pulled into the parking lot and dug in.

...

"Turn right here," Lester ordered. "And then go about three blocks down. It should be the last building right on the corner."

Taylor did what he was told to do, but he did it mostly out of reluctance. He really still wanted out of this whole mess. Despite what Cliff and Lester had said to him earlier, he was far from reassured about going ahead with their current plan. This was too big of a mess and he had the feeling it was only going to get messier. Of course, he couldn't actually convince Lester and Cliff that, so what he believed pretty much didn't even begin to matter at this point.

"What do you think we should say if Patrick calls again?" Cliff asked Lester. "I'm sure he's going to get impatient waiting for you to call him again for the killing we're not actually doing."

Lester shrugged. "He's just going to have to wait. We've still got a lot of work to do."

Taylor stayed out of the conversation as he drove to Tim's warehouse. He almost felt like they should have stuck to what Patrick had told them to do in the first place. Shoot the wrestlers, and then leave Cooper to Patrick. Dan, Sean and Jon would more than likely still be alive and they would possibly have their money already. He didn't want to point any of that out though because Cliff had a remarkably short temper and pointing that out could set him off.

"There it is," Lester said. "Park the car in front of it so I can open the doors up."

Taylor did that and leaned back in his seat. Lester got out of the car and quickly walked over to the part of the warehouse that they could stash their car in. Tim owned this place mostly just for storage purposes, and he had no idea what they were about to use it for. "Think Tim will be pissed if he finds out what we're planning?" Taylor asked casually.

Cliff snorted. "The dumb fuck isn't going to know until after everything is done. There's no reason to worry—"

Glenn suddenly started to sit straight up and Cliff had to quickly knock him back out with the butt end of his gun again. "Fucking shit," Cliff said under his breath. "I didn't know he actually did that outside the ring."

"Me neither," Taylor said. Okay, now he was really wishing they had taken someone else. Glenn had not been a good choice. There was only so much longer they were going to be able to keep hitting him in the head before he stopped feeling it. Then they would be in big trouble.

Lester got the doors opened and motioned for them to drive on in. Taylor started to do that, and as he did, he noticed a cab driving by. He didn't think too much of it though because he had more than enough on his plate to worry about. Concentrating on what needed to be done, he drove into the warehouse and turned off the car. For the moment, he could relax just a little bit, but that wouldn't last for more than a minute. Glenn still had to be tied up after all. _Oh that's going to be a bitch to do. A real fucking bitch._

……….

"That's it," Randy whispered to Matt. They had seen the warehouse Taylor, Lester and Cliff had just gone into. "That's the place."

"I know honey," Matt replied. He didn't need Randy to point out the obvious. "Now we've just got to find a way in there." He looked at Jeff. His younger brother had the gun put away, but he was now pretending to shoot out the window with his fingers. "Jeffro?"

"Bang bang! Bang bang!" Jeff said gleefully, probably making the cab driver think he was insane.

"Jeffro?" Matt said again, signaling for the cab driver to pull over so they could get out of the vehicle.

"Whatty Matty?" Jeff asked.

"You ready for this?"

"Uh huh."

"You sure?"

"Yup."

Matt turned to face Randy. "You ready?"

"Not really," Randy replied as they got out of the cab and Matt paid the driver. "I think I'm still shaky from Cooper's driving."

Matt patted him on the shoulder as they quickly moved to hide in the shadows. They had watched Glenn's captives go into the warehouse and they didn't appear to have anyone standing guard anywhere, but they needed to be careful just in case. "Yeah, we're going to need months of therapy to get over that," he muttered.

"Matty?" Jeff said, hopping from one foot to the other.

"What?"

"Can I shoot the bad mens now?"

Matt sighed. "You are getting way too into this."

Jeff pouted. "Yeah, but I never get to save anyone! I'm always the one that gets saved. Now I get to save Glenn and I can rub it in his face until he gives me Skittles to shut me up."

Matt couldn't help but chuckle. Jeff had put way too much thought into this. "Okay then. Let's save Glenn so you can eventually get your Skittles."


	14. Shedding the Load

"At least we know we have the right place," Tom stated.

"What gave you that clue, Einstein?" Cooper retorted.

"Probably the same thing that gave it to you, Edison. Keep driving," Tom instructed. "We'll park around the corner and double back on foot."

The stolen car drove past 3427 Harrison Street with it's telltale blue Buick parked in the driveway. To anyone else, it looked just like any other quaint split-level in the neighborhood. To Cooper, it was Armageddon.

"I wish I hadn't given my fuckin' knife to that asshole brother of yours," Cooper lamented. He'd been harping on that little fact ever since the restaurant.

"Point noted," Tom sighed. "You can stop here."

"Let's do this." Cooper stepped out of the car.

"Just a second." Tom reached under the seat for a black bag. "Here." He threw it at Cooper.

"What the fuck's this?" He peeked inside and saw several pieces of clothing.

"Change," Tom ordered "The last thing we need is one of the neighbors calling the cops 'cause they see you climbing their fence wearing that." Most of the blood had dried a deep crimson, but he still looked like he'd just survived an explosion in a slaughterhouse.

"You just wanna see me naked," Cooper grumbled

"If I wanted to see you naked, I'd offer you five hundred bucks, but I don't so I won't," Tom answered

"I don't need your money." James was a certified millionaire, not that he went around flaunting his wealth.

"Must be nice," Tom muttered. "So hurry up and change and let's get the ass-kickin' goin'." He politely turned around so Lawson could re-apparel himself.

"This is fuckin' ridiculous. Why don't we just kick his door in, kill the son of a bitch, and move on?"

"We could do that." Tom answered "While you're busy getting ambushed by Patrick, I'll sneak through the back and try explaining to everyone why I'm rescuing them instead of you. Considering neither of us are armed at the moment."

"Not my fault, asshole. You're the one who..."

"Okay, already. You mention that one more time and I'm gonna slit your throat." Tom quickly turned around and immediately covered his eyes, but not before he got a good view of an almost naked man. "Christ, you're as slow as Jeff to change."

Cooper laughed. "You fuckin' like it." He brushed some imaginary dirt from his left pectoral before slowly putting the shirt on.

_It wasn't this sexually tense when I was wrestling a horny Undertaker. I can't wait until this is over or I might end up being thrown out of the house._ Tom rolled his eyes. "Of course I fuckin' like it... why wouldn't I? It's not like we're gonna..." The sentence died on his lips when Cooper grabbed him and kissed him roughly.

"What the fuck?" Tom pushed the young Lawson away.

"If I didn't do that, I was gonna go apeshit," Cooper admitted.

"I thought you wanted to go apeshit."

"Yeah, but on Patrick's sorry ass, not yours."

"Just don't let it happen again before I have to bend you over and make your sorry ass even sorrier." Tom wiped his hand across his mouth, trying to remove the taste of Cooper.

Cooper scoffed. "I'd like to see you try." He slid the trousers on. _What the fuck has gotten into me... dammit Connor, you shoulda stuck around. I coulda plowed your tight ass and then both of us could've taken care of this..._

"Y'okay?" Tom's voice snapped his thoughts back into the realm of PG.

"Fuckin' awesome," Cooper grumbled. "Let's go. I look like such a tool."

"Just be glad you're wearing something from my closet instead of Jeff's," Tom told him. "At least you and I are the same size."

In the side mirror, Cooper checked out his new gear. Tom was right about that. The gear fit him better than most of his own clothes.

"If you're done preening, we better get into position. Sun's goin' down." The sky had gotten noticeably darker since they'd parked.

"Good. Motherfucker won't know what hit him until it's too late. Just the way I wanna end this fucked up day."

Tom flipped open his cell and set it to vibrate. Cooper did the same.

"Now we're ready." Tom reached for his gun, for the moment forgetting that he'd given it to Jeff. Ironically, Cooper did the same thing.

"Fuck!" they said at the same time, then looked at each other and laughed.

"You know it." Tom took off running, Cooper close behind. This is gonna be interesting.

.......

Connor's jaw really fucking hurt. It had never hurt so bad in his life. Stupid Patrick and his brass knuckles...Connor was covered in boo boos and he had nobody who could make them better. It was so unfair. His injured jaw was making it harder to keep up with his plan to bite his way through his ropes, but he was still trying to do it. Bite bite bite...he really had no other choice. He didn't want to be hit again. He hated getting hit when he couldn't hit back. It sucked big time.

"Marky?" James said, finally waking back up. He had drifted off a while ago (there was no clock down in this basement so Connor couldn't say how long for sure), but it didn't seem to be a peaceful sleep. Even with his eyes closed, James looked extremely pissed and agitated.

"Yeah?" Mark replied.

"You think Cooper's okay?"

"Well he ain't down here, so he must be," Mark answered. "Or at least he's got to be a lot better off than we are right now."

"Oh. Yeah, I guess so." James struggled against his restraints a little bit, letting out a groan of pain as he did so. "You holding up over there Connor?"

Connor didn't answer him. He had a lot of work to do. Bite bite bite...he had to keep biting. He was making progress with the rope that was tied around his one wrist. If he could get that off, he could use his free hand to untie himself, then he could get James and Mark free, then they could all kill Patrick and then they could go home. Home would be nice. Home had Snoopy and Cooper. He missed them both very much. _Must bite...must get free...I wanna go home..._

"Connor?" James said again, trying to get his youngest son's attention. "Can you talk to me buddy?"

Connor stopped and looked up, but it wasn't because of James. He was having one of his feelings again...only this time he didn't know whether it was bad or good. "Cooper," he said quietly.

Mark frowned. "Cooper?"

James stared at Connor. "He's nearby, isn't he?"

Connor nodded. He didn't know how he knew that, but he was positive it was true.

"Is he...in trouble?" James didn't sound like he wanted to ask.

"I don't think so," Connor said after a moment of thinking about it. "Not yet anyway."

James sighed in relief. "Well it better fucking stay that way because if he gets trapped down here with us, we're really screwed."

Connor sighed and went back to trying to bite his way free. He needed to get loose before Patrick caught on to what he was doing...or even worse, before Patrick saw Cooper and did something bad to him too.

.............

Cooper felt naked without his knife. No, naked wasn't a strong enough term. He felt like his arm had gotten cut off now that someone else had it. It was a terrible feeling, and it was made worse by the fact that he was getting closer and closer to Patrick's house. He had been so amped up in from his earlier killing spree and his reckless driving that he hadn't thought about the consequences of giving up his weapon. _Not that I actually need it to actually rip this mother fucker apart from limb to limb, he told himself. It just would be nice to have something to fall back...oh wait a second. Here's something nice._

Cooper stopped running and looked at the fence he was by. It was an old fashioned wooden one and it had a board with a few nails in it that looked like it was about to fall right off. Deciding to help it long, he grabbed a hold of it and yanked on it as hard as it could. It came right off, and he held it up happily, finally in possession of a weapon once again.

"What are you doing?" Tom asked, stopping to turn around and face Cooper. "Quit looking at that thing like it's going to fuck you and move your ass!"

Cooper rolled his eyes. "Well excuse me for being tired of empty handed," he said as he caught up with Tom. "At least now I have something to knock this fucker silly with." He smirked a little bit. "So I just have to ask, out of all the people to trust with your gun, why did you pick Jeff? He's probably going to end up shooting Matt or Randy instead of the bad guys."

Tom just shrugged his shoulders. "It seemed like the thing to do at the time."

"Dumbass thing to do if you ask me."

"Well lucky for me, I didn't ask you."

Cooper shook his head and started moving again. Things between him and Tom were pretty much at the point where they either needed to separate and never see each other again, or they were going to have to fuck. That was really the only options they had at this point. Whether the fucking came before or after they got the others was something Cooper didn't know. But what he did know was that he needed this bastard out of his head and he needed that to happen before he went crazier than any Lawson in recorded history.

Tom was coming to the exact same conclusion at about the same time. "Hey, Cooper?"

"What?" Cooper could barely look at him without the blood beginning to pound in his veins.

"You wanna fuck now or after we rescue your folks?"

Cooper's jaw dropped. "Are you fuckin' serious?"

"Dude, if we don't get your mind off of how badly you want me, Patrick's gonna have you for lunch."

"What if I don't want you?" Cooper lied

"You've wanted me since the fuckin' arena." Tom stated "The cutting, the dizziness... the only question is do you wanna top or do you want me to?"

Cooper's mouth suddenly felt like it was stuffed with cotton.

"I don't care." He finally said, but thoughts of his dick inside Tom's heat or vice-versa were rapidly overwhelming his senses.

Tom kicked open the door to a nearby shed and tossed Cooper inside, attacking his mouth as soon as the door was closed. For maybe two seconds, Cooper toyed with the idea of being the passive one for a change, but the second Tom's teeth grazed his jugular, the animal inside Cooper unleashed itself and he returned the kisses and bites of Tom with those of his own.

"Watch... the... scar." Tom gasped, letting Cooper push him against a wall and claw at his chest, drawing thin rivers of blood as he scratched the skin.

Cooper continued to attack Tom's chest, lapping up the blood greedily and getting more turned on with each lick. It was the most intense lovemaking he'd ever experienced. Not one of his one-night stands were ever this receptive to his animalistic tendencies and Connor just liked to lay back and take it like the bitch he was, assuming he was in the mood.

Tom suddenly spun Cooper around, sending a pile of rakes and shovels crashing to the wooden floor.

"Oops." He giggled, tugging Cooper's shirt loose and pulling it over his head. He attacked Cooper's smooth chest with the same ferocity that Cooper had attacked his, although he did not bring blood. He nibbled his way from his pecs down his abs to his navel, bringing moans of pure delight to Cooper's lips.

"Fuck..." Even the dream he had paled in comparison to this.

Tom raised his head slightly to look at Cooper. Leaning against the wall, with his head thrown back, mouth slightly open, and his chest heaving with each breath, he looked like something out of Greek mythology. Cupping the ridge in the front of Cooper's jeans, Tom could feel it pulse with every beat of Cooper's heart.

Locking eyes once more, Tom knew what Cooper wanted, even without a single word being uttered. He pulled the snap open, then used his teeth to draw the zipper down, his upper lip grazing lightly across the cloth-covered swelling, making Cooper moan and a small wet spot appear on the white fabric.

Thrusting his hips forward, Cooper felt the rough denim slide down his legs, then two sets of strong fingers touch him just above the waistband of his underwear.

_Hurry the fuck up, Hardy... I don't have a lot of self-control. _Tom must've read his mind because no sooner had this sentence, the last coherent one he was going to have for several minutes, went through his mind, then those same fingers freed his cock.

"Not bad for a kid." Tom stared at Cooper's dick, pointing straight out like a divining rod searching for water. Only it wasn't water it was looking for.

"I am not a.... ahhhhhh!" His penis was suddenly surrounded by the warm wet cave that could only be Tom's mouth. Cooper's eyes rolled back as Tom began to suck it, long wet strokes that brought Cooper pleasure like no other.

As he sucked, Tom used his one hand to gently stimulate Cooper's ball sack. Feeling the tightness, he knew that the young man wasn't going to draw this out any longer than a couple minutes at most. If Tom was going to get what he wanted out of this, then acting quickly was the only option.

His fingers quickly moved behind his balls and before Cooper could even begin to realize Tom's true intentions, two of his fingers had penetrated his asshole and were stretching him as well as stimulating his g-spot at the same time.

"Fuckin' shit balls, I'm gonna cum..." Cooper groaned "Fuckfuckfuckfuck..." With a loud grunt, he felt his balls contract and shot thick streams into Tom's waiting mouth. Intense was not the word for it since it felt like he shot forever. He was just starting to come down when he felt a pair of strong hands on his shoulders, turning him around, then something long and hard entering him only a moment or two later.

Although he'd just finished, it only took a few direct hits to his prostate before Cooper was hard once again. Tom knew exactly what he was doing, hitting his pleasure center perfectly with each thrust.

"Y'know Cooper, once this is over, I'm sure my little Jeffro would love to make you feel this good too. Anytime, anyplace..." Tom whispered seductively into Cooper's ear, reaching around to stroke his cock in time to the thrusts. "If you thought my mouth was hot, wait until he gets a hold of that big dick of yours... and that ass... he could milk a bowling ball out of a garden hose he's so tight."

"Oh fuck..." Cooper leaned back against Tom, cradling his neck with his one arm to allow his teeth access to the tender skin there. Like James, Cooper usually fell asleep almost immediately after his release, but here he was, five minutes later, nearly ready to blow another load.

Tom thrust forward, hitting the spot dead center, then roared his release. Cooper felt the warmth filling him and that brought him over the edge as well, splattering his goo against the far wall. Shortly after, he felt Tom pull out and heard the sounds of him redressing.

Cooper's euphoria must've overtaken him because the next thing he recalled was Tom lightly slapping his cheek.

"Earth to Lawson... earth to Lawson..."

He opened his eyes. Tom was staring at him, fully dressed, smiling like a one-eyed cat in a seafood store.

"Whafuck?" After what had just happened, Cooper was still seeing stars.

"Put your clothes on. We don't want to keep Patrick waiting, now do we?" He grinned

"Fuckin' A!" He was on a natural high. Whether it was the afterglow of the best sex he'd ever had, or the adrenaline of going to rip Patrick's head off, he didn't know and he didn't care. All he knew was that blood was going to be shed and he knew that it wasn't going to be his.

A lopsided smile on his face, Cooper followed Tom out of the shed, pausing only to pick up the nail-studded board off the ground. "It's showtime!"


	15. Showdown

"Can you see anything?" Randy asked

"If you'd hold still, I might be able to," Jeff answered

"If you'd stop moving around, I might be able to," Randy hissed back. "This was a stupid idea."

"It was the only way. I am not kicking the door down without knowing exactly what we're going into. There could be a whole army ready to blow our collective brains out," Matt stated "Jeff is the lightest of the three of us."

"But why couldn't he stand on your shoulders?" Randy complained. "I'm sure this isn't helping the three surgeries I've already had on mine."

"Shhh!" Jeff wiped one of the grimy panes with his sleeve. "I can't concentrate with all the noise."

"Well, hurry the fuck up." Randy tried bracing Jeff's feet with his hands, but it didn't ease the pain at all. He was sure that he was going to have tread marks on his neck for weeks to come.

"Almost got it." Jeff peered through the dirty glass. He could only see half the room, but what he saw was encouraging.

"Lemme down." With Matt's assistance, Jeff was soon back on solid ground.

"Well?" Matt asked, watching Jeff wipe his hands on his pants. "What'd ya see?"

"Only three bad mens," Jeff announced. "They have Glenn tied to a chair and are watching him instead of the door."

"They probably don't expect us this soon," Randy added. "So what's the plan?"

"I vote we try to lure one of them outside and take care of him," Matt answered

"Awww... I wanna shoot the baddies." Jeff mimed firing a gun. "Bang bang you're dead!"

"I'm sure you'll get a chance. Just as long as that's all you shoot." Matt put a hand on Jeff's shoulder to calm his impetuous younger brother. "I'm still not crazy about you having a loaded weapon."

"Tommy gave it to me." Jeff held the gun against his chest protectively. "Imma be careful."

"How do you propose we lure them out into the open?" Randy asked. "And what makes you think that only one of them will take the bait?"

"I figure two of them will want to remain behind to keep an eye on Glenn." Matt answered "Armed or not, Glenn's a match for any man. As for gettin' them out here, it won't be too hard..."

...

"Now what?" Taylor asked. "We've got him tied up like the proverbial Christmas turkey; do we just sit here and wait?"

"Yeah. I know wrestlers don't have a lotta brains, but I'm sure they're gonna try to rescue this sack of dog turds. The moment they try anything, we start firing," Cliff replied

"I still don't like it. Why can't we call Patrick and have him send us some back-up?"

"Do you really want that fucker knowing anything? The last thing any of us wants is for him to start askin' a lotta stupid questions." Lester answered "Besides, Patrick is still paying for six of us. With Jon, Sean, and Dan outta the picture, that's a double share for each of us."

"I still don't like this," Taylor stated.

"If you want out, that's fine. But if that's so, then you should start sleeping with one eye open." Cliff flicked open his jacket, revealing his weapon.

Taylor's eyes bulged when the meaning became crystal clear.

"And the money's easier to split two ways than three," Lester chimed in. "So why don't you relax? Once Patrick is outta the way, you'll have enough dough to hide out in a cave in the Rocky mountains if that's what you wanna do."

It wasn't about the money. After seeing how easily Cooper had dispatched the other three thugs, and the scary part about it is that Dan, Sean, and Jon were the three best fighters of the six of them, Taylor had no doubt that he would soon be staring at the business end of a gun. Just who held it was up to him.

"So, we wait, that's it?" Taylor tried to hide his nervousness.

"Yup." Lester replied

Looking from Lester to Cliff to the corner where Glenn, still unconscious, was secured to the chair, Taylor felt a sense of dread. He knew that something was going to go wrong, not that everything had gone as planned since the start.

...

"Ready?" Matt asked

Jeff nodded, Tom's gun pointed at the side entrance. Randy also nodded. He was standing off to one side, partially concealed behind a stack of crates, Cooper's knife tightly held in his fist.

Matt picked up a large rock and hurled it against the door.

"What the hell was that?" Lester looked up from where he was cheating at solitaire.

"Dunno." Taylor sounded like he didn't care. He was currently pacing back and forth, occasionally stopping to peer out one of the dirt-encrusted ground-floor windows.

"Go find out." Cliff ordered "Sounded like it came from out back."

"Fuck that!" Taylor shouted "If you're so interested, you go check it out."

"You're such a fuckin' pussy." Lester loaded a fresh cartridge into his gun, staring at Taylor with disgust the entire time. "If we hadn't lost three guys already, I'd use this on you right now."

Taylor gulped. Lester was not one to mince words.

"Well, one of you find out what's making that noise!" Cliff demanded

Taylor and Lester looked at each other. "No fuckin' way!" Taylor mouthed

Shaking his head at his fellow enforcer, Lester kicked the table aside, scattering the cards across the room. "Fuckin' pussy." He repeated, heading in the direction the noise had emanated from.

"I hear footsteps." Matt jumped away from the door, hiding himself in the doorway of the building next door. Since the only weapon he had was his fists, he wasn't going to do any of the fighting unless necessary.

Randy looked at Jeff, his nervousness starting to return. Jeff smiled, giving him a thumbs-up, but that only took the edge off of it. He hadn't wanted to get involved in the first place, and now there he was standing armed, getting ready to maybe take a human life.

Lester paused, his hand on the doorknob. The hair on the back of his neck was standing straight up. He paused, listening for any signs of life.

"Now who's being the pussy?" Taylor taunted

Lester turned, and fired a shot into the rafters, exploding one of the overhead lights. Shards of glass and sparks blanketed Taylor, who shrieked loudly.

"Shut the fuck up!" Lester growled, then turned his attention back to the door. "One... two... three." He counted aloud, then kicked it open. He carefully stepped outside, looking to his left and right, then straight ahead... right into the barrel of the gun Jeff held.

"Drop the weapon, asshole." Jeff growled "Unless you want me to ventilate your skull."

Lester scoffed. "You ain't got enough hair on your ass to pull the trigger. Besides, the safety's still on."

"It is?" Jeff looked down at the gun, and immediately realized that he'd made a fatal mistake. Lester brought his own gun down, knocking the gun from Jeff's grip. One swing of his arm and Jeff went flying across the alley, crashing against the wall.

"You're gonna make me a very rich man." Lester stood over Jeff's prone form. "The WWE's gonna have to shell out mucho bucks to get you back."

Jeff mumbled something incoherent, then giggled.

Lester crouched beside Jeff, and yanked him up by the hair. "You mind repeating that, fuckwad?"

"He said too bad you won't be around to spend it." Hearing a voice from behind Lester stood, now face to face with Randy knife in hand.

"You really think that's gonna do anything? Put the sticker down before I shoot you where you stand." Lester felt really brave, even though for all his bluster, he was still outnumbered.

"Then go ahead. It'll be the last fuckin' thing you do." Randy hoped that his acting was up to par.

Lester smiled, raising the gun to point right between Orton's eyes. "It'll be my pleasure."

"Hi-yaah!" Matt sprung from his hiding place, and karate chopped Lester's right wrist... the one holding the gun. Lester grimaced and lowered his wrist, but did not relinquish his hold on the weapon.

"Three of ya? Oh well, it just makes things a little more interesting." It was closer to two on one since Jeff hadn't moved after crashing and burning early on.

"That it does." Matt and Randy circled Lester, hoping that the close quarters would prevent Lester from getting a decent shot at either of them. If not, one of them could be the next casualty.

...........

Cooper was picking the lock on Patrick's back door, absolutely convinced that each noise would attract the attention of the asshole that had taken his family from him. "Come on you son of a bitch," he whispered. "Just fucking come on."

"Are you sure you know what you're doing?" Tom asked.

"Of course I know what I'm doing! Do you have any idea how many times Connor's handcuffed himself to something and lost the keys?" That had happened so many times that he had lost count completely. All those instances plus some other breaking and entering missions had made him very good at picking locks.

He grinned as he heard the familiar click of the door being unlocked. "Told you so," he said smugly. He opened the door so they could go in. "Who's the man?"

Tom rolled his eyes. "Well considering who just did the fucking--"

Cooper had to try really hard to stop himself from snorting. "Oh please, like that really matters. I am the man with a plan...to bash Patrick's skull...damn it, in doesn't rhyme with those man and plan." He looked around the room they had just entered. It was a nice looking kitchen. It wasn't as big as the one he, Connor and James had at home, but it was perfect for the little hell hole known as Suburbia. "Oooh, knife," Cooper said under his breath, handing the nail covered board to Tom and helping himself to a butcher knife that was in a set of them that was sitting on the counter.

"You sure that's a good idea?" Tom asked in a hushed tone. "If he comes in here while we're looking around and notices that it's gone--"

"Let him," Cooper said savagely. It felt really good to have a knife in his possession again. Sure it wasn't his regular knife, but it would do for now. "I'll make sure he knows who has it."

Tom shook his head. "Damn Lawsons and your homicidal tendencies..."

"Yeah we're freaks," Cooper admitted. He opened a nearby door and found a pantry. "Shit."

"Where do you think he's keeping them?" Tom asked. They were talking so quietly that if they hadn't been right next to each other, they wouldn't have heard what the other one was saying.

"I'm thinking basement," Cooper replied. He began very slowly creeping out of the kitchen, hoping that the floors didn't creak too loudly. It would be really awesome if it turned out that Patrick was out taking a walk or something, but with the way things had been going over the past couple of days, there was no way that they would get that lucky.

Tom didn't question Cooper's reasoning behind that; he just helped Cooper start looking. They went out of the kitchen and began sneaking around as quietly as they could. Cooper's senses were going into overdrive, and his body was dying for another fight. _Or another round of sex...no! Focus damn it! Family in trouble, I need to help them._ Licking his lips and gripping his new knife tightly in his hands, he carefully made his way down the nearest hallway. One of these doors had to lead to the basement. The basement had to be where Patrick was keeping the others. Basements usually didn't have windows, so nobody on the outside looking in could accidentally spot them. And out of any room in a house (besides an attic), it was the one least likely to be gone into by someone who didn't live in the place.

He opened two of the doors in the hallway and behind one he found a bathroom and behind the other was a linen closet. He started to open a third door when he heard a whole bunch of gunshots. Nearly jumping out of his skin (not that he would admit that he did that...he still had a reputation to maintain after all), he ran back so he could look in at what was going on in the living room. What he found was Patrick shooting at Tom and Tom dodging the bullets by hiding behind just about anything he could. Without even thinking, Cooper hurled the knife he was holding across the room, grinning as the blade of it buried itself into Patrick's shoulder.

Patrick let out a whole bunch of curse words and dropped his gun. Cooper quickly ran across the room and speared Patrick down to the ground. He began hitting the bastard as hard as he could. Patrick managed to roll himself over on top and began returning the blows with his good arm, but he didn't keep the advantage for long. Cooper got himself back up on top and he grabbed the knife that was still in Patrick's arm and twisted it as hard as he could. "Where are they?" he snarled. "What the fuck did you do to my family?"

Patrick kicked upwards and caught Cooper right between the legs. Cooper rolled off of him and doubled over in pain. Now that had hurt like a bitch. Patrick scrambled up to his feet, doing his best to avoid Tom, who had reclaimed the board and was doing his best to bury the nails in it right in his skull. Cooper did his best to ignore his aching balls and he grabbed the gun that Patrick had dropped. "Move!" he shouted.

Tom moved and Cooper fired. Unfortunately, nothing came out of the bastard thing. There were no more bullets in it. All three of them stood completely still, none of them believing the luck (good in Patrick's case, crappy for Cooper and Tom). Then Patrick took off running towards the hallway Cooper had come out of and Cooper and Tom went chasing after him. Patrick opened one of the doors Cooper hadn't gotten around to opening and he started trying to lock himself in there. Both Cooper and Tom shoved him out of the way and got themselves in there instead. Tom locked the door while Cooper switched on the light switch that as on the wall. This was definitely the basement. "Connor?" Cooper called out, practically jumping down the stairs. "Dad? Mark?"

There was absolutely nobody besides him and Tom in the basement. He looked all around it, but didn't have any luck. "Fuck!" he yelled. "Fuck fuck fuck fuck--"

...........

James, Mark and Connor all stared up at the ceiling as they heard somebody screaming the word fuck at the top of their lungs. The sound of it was muffled, but they could still hear it. "Is that...is that Cooper?" Mark asked.

Connor nodded. "I think it is."

James took a deep breath. Cooper was there...maybe they would get out of this after all. "COOPER!" he yelled at the top of his lungs. "GET US THE FUCK OUT OF HERE RIGHT NOW!"

..........

Tom put his hand over Cooper's mouth to silence the younger man. "Listen!" he ordered. "I heard something."

Cooper forced himself to quiet down and listening. Besides from the sounds of Patrick trying to get in, he couldn't hear anything. But then, after a moment, he heard what Tom had heard the first time.

"COOPER! I REALLY FUCKING MEAN IT! GET US OUT OF HERE!"

"Dad!" Cooper yelled, yanking his mouth away from Tom's hand. He started looking around. "Where the fuck is he yelling from?"

"I think I might have an idea," Tom said. He pointed down to the floor.

Cooper blinked once before his eyes widened. "Oh son of a bitch..." he muttered. James, Mark and Connor weren't in the basement at all.

They were underneath the damn house.


	16. Trapped!

Lester hated to admit it, but the three wrestlers were more of a match for him than he'd originally figured. Actually, he hadn't figured on that at all, so it wasn't much of a stretch. The big problem was he couldn't get them to stop moving for a clear shot.

"Hold still, motherfuckers," he shouted, shooting wildly at Matt, who ducked behind a stack of tires.

"Make us," Jeff taunted, flipping off to the side.

Lester grinned. "Oh, don't worry my lovelies. I will," he cackled

Matt wondered what Lester found so funny. He would soon find out. Lester's eyes flicked away from Matt to another part of the alley.

"Oh, fuck..." Randy was close... too close. With two moves, Lester had his arm wrapped around his boyfriend's throat.

"Drop the knife before I ventilate ya." Lester put his gun to Orton's forehead, his finger twitching on the trigger.

With no other option, Randy obeyed.

"You too." Lester pointed to Jeff. "Drop the gun."

Jeff looked at Tom's gun, then at Lester. "Why?" he asked.

"Jeffro, just do it!" Matt hissed. "Please."

"Matty, he's not gonna hurt Randy." Jeff seemed pretty calm considering if Lester had a mind to it, he could take both Orton and Jeff out in seconds.

"He's not?" Matt swallowed nervously.

"I'm not?" Lester guffawed loudly. "And why is that, my twinky friend?"

"'Coz there are no bullets left in your gun," Jeff replied.

"Whaddaya mean... I just loaded this before I came out."

"Ten shot clip, right?" Jeff seemed to grow braver with each passing second.

"Yeah? So?"

"I been counting. You fired three at the metal post, three at Matt earlier, two at Randy and two more just now. That's three plus three plus two plus two and that equals ten."

"You got it wrong. I only fired two at the post. That's three plus two plus two plus two and that's nine..."

"Even if you were right, that would be two plus three plus two plus two not three plus two plus two plus two..."

"Enough!" Lester bellowed "The point is there's one bullet left in this gun and guess who's gonna get it if you don't drop your gun and kick it over to me."

"I guess you're right." Jeff waved the gun as if he was going to hand it over, then fired it, much to the surprise of everyone, especially Lester.

"Good shot!" Matt shouted.

Lester looked at the hole just below his rib cage. Two inches on either side and Jeff would've hit Randy instead. "Good shot." He repeated, reaching into his shirt. When his hand came back out, it was covered in blood. "A very good shot!" His eyes widened and he fell to the ground, dead.

Matt ran over to check on Randy.

"Are you okay?" he asked, quickly groping Randy for any signs that he had been struck.

"Why me, Matty?" Randy gasped. "I've almost been killed twice today."

"And you're alive by less than four inches total," Jeff added.

"How were you able to keep track of how many shots Lester had fired?" Matt asked.

"It was easy." Jeff took the gun from the dead man's hand and pointed it at the sky. "Like I told you, man, there were no shots left in this gun. " He pulled the trigger...

BLAM!

Jeff, Matt, and Randy jumped. Jeff giggled anxiously. "Three plus two plus two plus two..."

...

Taylor and Cliff were waiting anxiously inside for Lester to return. With the exception of the gunshots, they'd heard nothing. With each passing minute, their anxiety levels increased.

"Do you think we should go out there?" Taylor kept looking at the door, which made Cliff even more angry.

"One minute you're pissing yourself when we told you to go out there and now you're all gung-ho to run to the rescue. Lester can take care of himself, don't you worry about it."

"Who you tryin' to convince?"

Cliff and Taylor turned around. Glenn was conscious.

"Looks like you all stepped in it big time."

"Shut up!" Cliff shouted, reaching for his gun on the table.

"Or what... you'll kill me?" Glenn taunted Cliff. "Hell, the rest of your plans have gone down the shitter, what's one more floater?"

"I said... shut up!" Cliff walked over to the bound Glenn. "I'll fuckin' kill you and don't think I won't!"

"Now who's pissing themself?" Glenn laughed. "God, if you guys had half a clue, you'd realize that you fucked with the wrong family. If Cooper can take out three men without even breaking a sweat, just what do you think he's gonna do when he finds you here. I'm guessing from the sounds I heard outside, that he's already here and you two are next."

Cliff pistol-whipped Glenn across the face, splitting his cheek open.

"I know you're both fucked, your little bitch over there knows you're both fucked... fuck, even you know you're both fucked, so let's stop jerking each other off and get down to business."

"Business?" Cliff asked. "What do you mean business?"

"How much is Patrick paying you guys to be his little toys?" Glenn asked

"Thirty-k." Taylor blurted out.

"That's all?" If Glenn had eyebrows, he would've raised them in disbelief. "Fuck, you really got the wrong end of the gun."

"That's a lot of money."

"I make it for one match.," Glenn stated. "Anyway, enough bullshit. I know that you're planning to take Patrick out, then ransom me back to the WWE."

"How did you...?" The discussion about money was starting to interest Taylor.

"You really think those weak-sister shots you gave me were enough to knock me out? Fuck, you guys are dumber than I thought." Glenn laughed again. "What if I were to offer you three times what Patrick is paying you?"

"Three times?" Cliff repeated.

"Yeah. And I'll make sure that Patrick and Cooper don't lay a hand on you..."

"You just want us to let you go. Well, mister Big Red Machine, that ain't gonna happen!" Cliff smeared the trickled of blood on Kane's cheek with the gun.

"After he finds out that you've double-crossed him, your lives won't be worth two streams of piss... I suggest you take the offer."

"What if we refuse?" Taylor came over and stood beside Cliff. Together, they looked imposing, but Glenn knew that they were just as scared of Patrick as they were of Cooper.

The sound of breaking glass interrupted their negotiations.

"What the fuck?" Cliff looked up at the broken skylight just in time to see a large object wrapped in black plastic hurtle down toward them. It hit the ground with a thud.

Taylor kicked at it.

"Well?" Cliff gestured with his gun.

"Well what?" Taylor replied

"You gonna play with it or open it?" Cliff demanded

Muttering incoherently, Taylor ripped open the plastic covering. His face immediately paled. "Oh fuck..." He ran across the room and started throwing up.

Glenn smiled.

"Don't fuckin' move or you'll eat steel." Cliff kept one eye on Glenn while he walked over to see what had dropped in on them. One brief look and Cliff immediately covered it back up.

"So, do we have a deal?" Glenn asked.

.....

Patrick headed towards the basement door with his newly retrieved shotgun in his hand. Everything was falling apart and he was less than pleased about it. Tim's goons obviously had failed at what he was paying them to do. Tom was supposed to be among the dead at the moment and Cooper was supposed to be ripe for the picking. The fact that they weren't meant he was going to have to take care of them himself. Note to self: kill the useless flunkies. They don't deserve one fucking penny of my money.

He started to reach out to try to open the basement door when he got a whole other idea. There was no doubt in his mind that Cooper and Tom had locked the door so that they could look for James and the others without getting interrupted. Now he could break down the door and go down there with his gun to try to regain control of this situation, but at this point, it didn't seem like a risk really worth taking. No, he needed to do something more drastic to take the entire Lawson clan out of the picture.

Knowing that he needed to act quickly, he began taking anything heavy he could find and started barricading the door with it. He didn't know how long it would take for Cooper and Tom to figure out where James, Mark and Connor were, but he hoped it would take them just long enough for him to do this. "Now for the gasoline," he muttered, laughing to himself as he walked away from the barricaded door. _Oh yeah, the Lawsons are definitely going to burn now._

.......

Cooper got down on his hands and knees and began feeling around the dirty floor. "What the hell are you doing?" Tom asked.

"Trying to find the trap door," Cooper replied. The light they had to work with wasn't that good, so it was making what he was attempting to do that much harder. "There has to be one around here somewhere. I mean, if Dad and them are underneath us..."

Tom sighed and got down on his hands and knees so he could help Cooper look. "What the fuck are we going to do if Patrick somehow gets in here before we find this door? Or what if we find the door, get your psycho family and then when we try to leave, he's waiting outside to blow our fucking brains out?"

"Dude, I don't fucking know!" Cooper snapped. "I haven't exactly thought that far ahead yet. I'm kind of just going with whatever gets thrown at me at this point." He kept crawling around, really hoping that what he was thinking at the moment was right so he could just end this nightmare sooner rather than later.

"Found it!" Tom said triumphantly.

Cooper turned around to see that Tom had shoved some boxes out of the way and had gotten the door open. "Fucking sweet," he said under his breath. He got back up and walked over there. "I guess you're not willing to go down there first, are you?"

Tom nodded. "After you dude."

"Figures," Cooper muttered. He sighed and somewhat carefully (he didn't have time to be too careful), he climbed down to the room Patrick had kept hidden until now. His feet touched a set of not so sturdy wooden stairs, and it took him a moment for his eyes to adjust to the fact that the lighting down here was worse than it was up in the basement.

"Cooper!" Connor exclaimed. "You came!"

"Oh thank God," James said with a sigh. "You have no idea how happy we are to see you."

"Actually, I think I could take a wild guess at it," Cooper replied. He carefully made his way down the stairs as he looked around. James was tied down to some sort of torture device, Connor was tied to a chair and Mark was chained up against the wall. All three of them seemed to be the worse for wear, but at least they were still alive.

"Holy shit," Tom said as he made his way down to the torture chamber. "This is fucking crazy."

James groaned. "Him? Out of all the people you could have brought with you, it had to be him?"

"Nice to see you too Lawson," Tom said sarcastically.

"Hardy, not now," Cooper said. He began trying to get James out of his restraints. "Get Connor untied and then see if you can find the keys to Mark's chains. That will save me the trouble of picking the lock on them."

Tom muttered something under his breath that Cooper didn't catch, but he walked over to Connor's chair and started getting him untied. Cooper got James's arms free as fast as he could, not even caring about the fact that Patrick was still loose. The fact that he was finally reunited with his family had brought a sense of calm over him. "Can you move your arms?" he asked James.

James winced. "I don't think so. Not yet anyway. The fuckers are asleep and I think my shoulders are out of my sockets."

"Here, let me do this then..." Cooper carefully moved James's arms down to his sides, earning himself the privileged of being cussed at by his dad. "Sorry," he said as he helped James sit up.

"Ugh, I am going to fucking destroy this asshole," James growled. "I really fucking mean it."

"Oh I don't doubt that," Cooper said with a nod. He grabbed a hold of James's left arm. Without any warning, he forced the older man's shoulder back into his socket. James let out a yell and while he was distracted by that, Cooper grabbed his other arm and made that shoulder go back into place. "I think we should get you guys to a hospital," he said, helpfully rubbing James's shoulders a little bit so the circulation would come back to them.

"Later," James grumbled. "I want to kill Patrick so bad I can't stand it. That bastard put his hands on Connor and has your mom's locket."

"Tom, is Snoopy okay?" Connor asked.

"Yeah, he's safe with Lizzie," Tom confirmed.

"Good." Connor got up to his feet and walked over to Cooper so he could give him a hug. "You get my message?"

"Yeah," Cooper said. He ruffled Connor's hair. "You have no idea how much you helped us out, you demented little freak."

"You know, as great as this reunion is, I would like to not be chained to the wall anymore," Mark said.

"Hold your horses Deadman," Tom said. "I'm looking for the keys."

"Oh just forget it," Cooper said. He walked over to Mark. "I'll just pick the locks."

Mark looked up at him as he held out his wrists. "Boy, do you have any idea what you were risking by coming here?"

Cooper shrugged. "Yeah, but what else was I supposed to do? I couldn't leave you guys down here...well okay, I could have left you here--"

"Very funny," Mark muttered. He looked over at Tom. "So how the hell did you get involved in this mess?"

Tom shrugged. "You're my meal ticket Mark. I'm not interested in a wrestling comeback without you."

James snorted. "Oh isn't that fucking special? He wants to use you Marky!"

"Lawson, save that shit for later," Mark ordered. "We've got bigger problems than you not liking Tom right now."

"Yeah," Tom agreed. "Patrick is still running around up there and he could shoot us as we try to leave."

_And on top of that, I have to worry about Dad finding out about what Tom and I did before we came to the rescue_, Cooper thought to himself. He knew this wasn't an appropriate time to be thinking about that, but he couldn't help it. Seeing as how James couldn't even be thankful that Tom was helping out with the rescue (at least not outwardly), he was worried about what his dad would do when he found out about the sex in the shed. _It's not even a matter of IF he finds out. He always finds this shit out, even if I don't mention it. Fucking creepy is what it is._

Cooper picked the locks on Mark's chains just a little bit more and then managed to get them off of him. "Come on Taker," he said, hauling Mark up to his feet.

"Careful!" Mark growled. "I got shot in the fucking knee!"

"You got shot in the knee?" Tom said. "Damn, that's not good."

"Tell us something we don't know," James growled.

Tom smirked. "I--"

"We need to go!" Cooper said quickly. If Tom said what Cooper was sure he was about to say, Tom wasn't making it out of this house alive. "Hardy, help me get Mark. Connor, help Dad so we can get the hell out of here."

"Fuck, who died and made you the boss?" James asked.

"Well seeing as how you got kidnapped, I had to step it up a bit," Cooper replied.

"You would have been proud of him," Tom piped up. "He killed three of Patrick's flunkies in a span of five minutes."

James grinned. The pride could clearly been seen in his eyes. "That's my boy," he said happily.

Cooper couldn't help but grin too. But there wasn't much time to take pride in what he had done. He and Tom helped haul Mark up the stairs (which was not easy because he couldn't put any weight on his injured knee) and out the trapdoor. James and Connor, who had gone out first, were at the top of the basement stairs, trying to get the door open. Cooper could hear an alarm going off upstairs and he didn't like the sound of it. "Please tell me that's not what I think it is?"

James grunted as he began kicking at the door. "You want the bad news or the worst news?"

"How about some good news?" Tom countered. "I'd like that whole lot better."

"I don't think you get that choice," Mark told him.

"Daddy..." Connor said nervously.

"Start with the bad news," Cooper said quickly, even though he was sure he knew what it was.

James sighed and kept trying to kick the door open. "The bad news is, I'm pretty sure the house is on fire. And the worst news is, that little asswipe Patrick barricaded us in here. We're fucking trapped."


	17. Strange Bedfellows

Cooper groaned, really hoping that he had gotten hit on the head and he was just dreaming this. Being trapped in a burning house was the last fucking thing he needed right now. "Please tell me you're joking," he told James. "Please, I am fucking begging you to say you're joking."

James shook his head. "I can smell the fucking smoke through the cracks of the door. The shit is starting to closer to us. Besides, out of everyone here, I should know what the smoke alarm sounds like."

"Yeah really," Mark agreed. "God knows you've started enough kitchen fires trying to cook."

"How well barricaded is the door?" Tom asked as he and Cooper started trying to help Mark up the stairs.

James shrugged, wincing in pain as he did so. "I think between all of us, we can get it open enough to get out. But you want to know what really pisses me off?"

"Everything?" Tom and Cooper guessed at the same time.

"Well yeah, lately everything has been pissing me off! If you're going to kill me, do it like a fucking man! Don't fucking hide behind tasers and elephant tranquilizers and shit like that! And don't set a fucking house on fire while I'm in it! If you're going to burn me up, set me on fire!"

Mark stared at him like he just grew a second head. "Let me get this straight Lawson: you would much rather be on fire right now as opposed to being trapped in this burning house?"

"Well no, but that is not the point!" James kicked the door several times as hard as he could. Cooper was actually pleased to see that it budged just a bit under that assault.

Connor whined in such a way that Cooper actually thought that Snoopy had somehow made his way into the basement. "Daddy I don't like this," he whimpered. "I want to get out of here."

"You think we could just go back down to that little chamber and just wait it out?" Tom asked. "I mean, it's underground--"

"But if there's something explosive in this house--" Mark started to say.

"What, like dynamite?" James said.

"There could be propane," Cooper pointed out. "And that could cause an explosion and if that shakes a gas line, I don't think--"

"Stop it!" Connor yelled at the top of his lungs. "Stop it! I want to go home! You take me home right now Cooper!"

"Alright alright!" Cooper said. When Connor yelled like that, it meant he needed to be appeased that fucking minute, or there would be a full fledged tantrum coming. "On the count of three, we're going to throw ourselves against the door. Everyone good with that?"

The others nodded in agreement. "Okay here we go," Cooper said. "One....two...THREE!"

Five large bodies smashed into the door at the same time. The force of them all together made the door open up just a little bit, but it wasn't enough for them to reasonably fit through (okay, maybe Tom and Connor could manage it...but that would leave James, Mark and Cooper behind).

"Again!" Cooper ordered. This time he didn't even do a three count. They just hit the door again and this time managed to get it about halfway open. Now the good news was that they could get the fuck out of the basement. The bad news was, the fire had made the hallway unbearably hot and there was so much smoke in the air that not only was it impossible to breathe, but it was also incredibly hard to see.

Cooper got down to his hands and knees in an effort to avoid most of the smoke. He tried to yell for the others, but he choked on the smoke instead. It really wouldn't have done any good anyway. As soon as they were all out of the basement, they all basically lost their cool and started trying to get the fuck out of the house as fast as they could. Basically blind, he just reached out and pulled the first body he could get a hold of and pulled them down to the floor with him. Then he began his race to the front door, really cursing his fucking luck.

The house was a fucking inferno, and the living room was worse than the hallway. The smoke was so thick that he was sure he was going to die from inhaling the smoke right then and there. Now because he was so blinded, he was somewhat sure he ended up at the front door instead of the back one he and Tom had come in. But at least it was a fucking door. He reached up and opened it, crawling out into the fresh air as fast as he possibly could. He took great big gasps of air, rolling down the porch steps because his arms felt like pudding now. He looked over and saw it was Connor he had grabbed and dragged around when he had been inside.

"Cooper!" Connor gasped out in between coughs. "Where's Daddy?"

Cooper shook his head. He was about to say he didn't know when he saw James stumbling out of the house with Mark slung over his shoulders. It looked it was causing him some pain to do that, but he didn't seem to give a rat's ass. "Fucking shit," he muttered, not putting Mark down until they were a somewhat safe distance from the house. "That fucking sucked!"

"Where's Tom?" Cooper asked, suddenly realized that Hardy hadn't joined them.

"How the hell should I know?" James replied. "I couldn't fucking see a thing in there!"

Mark slipped out of James's grip so he could stand on his good leg. He coughed violently for a moment before speaking. "I think he was behind us," he said, still wheezing more than a little bit. "But I heard something crash and then the fire started spreading more..."

Cooper was on his feet in an instant. He didn't need to hear anymore. Tom was trapped inside the house. Tom had fell or something had hit him or maybe something even just fell in front of him, and it was keeping him trapped inside the inferno. For some reason, that bothered Cooper way more than it should have. _What the hell is wrong with me? _he asked himself. _I don't even like Tom! Then again, Dad and Mark don't seem to like each other half the time...oh fuck me, I've turned into my dads. I like someone I can barely be around without wanting to strangle!_

"Where the fuck are you going?" James yelled in disbelief. "Cooper Benjamin Lawson, get your ass back here this instant!"

Yikes, the full name. That wasn't something that happened often. James only pulled that out when he was angry, worried or both. But Cooper didn't have time to be concerned with that right now. He had way more important things to be concerned about at the moment.

The fire and the smoke were even worse now than before. Cooper choked, his eyes tearing up because of it. "Tom?" he choked out, way too much smoke filling his lungs. "Tom?" he choked out again, his heart beating so hard in his chest that he felt like it was going to explode.

He wasn't getting an answer. Unable to explore the living room more because there was too much fire, he ran back out of the house and then ran around to the back. James, Mark and Connor were all yelling at him, but he just ignored them. He about slipped and fell at one point, but he managed to stay on his feet and get back into the house. There was fire in the kitchen, but it wasn't as bad as the living room had gotten. By the door that led to the living room, he saw Tom laying on the floor, not moving at all. "Oh fuck," he muttered. Moving as fast as he could, he grabbed the fallen man and hauled him out of the house.

"Come on Hardy," Cooper muttered as he set Tom down on to the grass. He searched for a pulse and found one. _Okay, he's only passed out. That's good._ "Wake up," he ordered, slapping Tom across the face as hard as he could. "Come on, don't you do this to me. Wake up. Wake up." Each and every one of his sentences were followed by a hard slap. "Wake up. Wake the fuck up damn it!"

Tom suddenly began to cough violently, gasping for breath and rolling over to his side. "Damn it to hell Lawson..." he wheezed out. "Don't you know mouth to mouth?"

Cooper shook his head. "The one time I tried it I broke one of Connor's ribs."

"Oh." Tom took several deep breaths. "I guess I appreciate you not trying it on me then."

"I figured you would." Cooper looked back at the burning house. "What the hell happened to you in there? When you didn't come out--"

"I got trapped," Tom interrupted, looking at Cooper in amusement. "The smoke was too much...were you worried Cooper?"

"No," Cooper said as fast as he could.

Tom just raised his eyebrows in response.

Cooper sighed. "Go to hell Tom."

But they both knew that he really didn't mean it. And neither of them noticed that they were currently being watched.

.......

"Well well well," Mark said, shaking his head in amusement. "This is an interesting development."

James growled. It was interesting alright, but it wasn't interesting in a way that he liked. He and Mark were watching Cooper talk to Tom, but while it seemed innocent on the surface, he could sense that it was anything but that. Cooper had not only run into a burning house to save the asshole, but his boy was touching Tom a whole fucking lot right now. And it wasn't normal touching. It was discreet groping (although it obviously wasn't too discreet since it had been noticed). James wasn't sure if Cooper knew he was doing it or not, but it was happening. "Mark, please tell me the vibe I'm getting is wrong," he said quietly. "Please tell me that--"

"They so fucked," Mark said without hesitation. "Sorry honey, but it happened. "Deal with it."

James scowled. Oh he would deal with it alright. He was going to deal with it by taking his knife and--

"No," Mark said, slapping James on the back of the head. "Not like that. We still have Patrick to deal with. We don't have time for your issues with Tom."

James continued to scowl. He knew they needed to go after Patrick. But the thought of Tom touching his kid...well, there would be hell to pay for it. As soon as he got rid of Patrick, he and Tom were going to have themselves a little chat. _Unless I catch him doing something with Cooper before then. Then he might be getting his throat slashed again._

...

"Imma gonna shoot the other baddies?" Jeff asked, being the last to climb down from the roof.

"With what?" Matt asked, wiping the sweat off his forehead. "Unless you carry extra bullets with you, I'm pretty sure that Tom's gun is as empty as your head right now."

"Better question is why the fuck didn't we use the fire escape earlier instead of you standing on my shoulders?" Randy moved his neck from side to side, grimacing the entire time.

"Still hurtin', baby? Here, lemme work those nasty kinks out of you."

"Ewwww...." Jeff made a face. "Not here, please?"

Matt ignored him.

"Mmmm." The second Matt's strong fingers began to knead the knots in Randy's neck, he melted.

Jeff leaned against the wall, originally looking away, but eventually his curiosity took over.

"We're not gonna do it, so stop looking at us like Lucas after he's done his business in the flowerbed. Okay?"

Randy laughed, stretching his neck to give Matt easier access. The tension was almost gone. "Awesome." He gasped

"There, babes." One last squeeze to Randy's trapezius then Matt stepped back. "That'll be fifty dollars." He held out his hand for payment.

"How about I pay you when this is all over." Randy winked seductively.

"Imma not listening... Imma not listening... Imma NOT listening." Jeff sang, covering his ears and hopping around. "La la la la la la..."

"Jeffrey Nero Hardy, stop that right now!" Matt barked

Jeff stuck his tongue out, but did what he was told.

"How do you put up with him?" Randy moaned, cracking his neck loudly.

"I dunno. I usually let Tom deal with it." Matt chuckled "Normally, he'll put Jeff over his knee and..."

"Dude, I am so not hearing this." Randy stuck two fingers in his ears, but left off the song and dance routine.

"I'm kidding." Matt pulled Randy's fingers out. "Jeez, dude, come on."

Randy grinned sheepishly.

"Baddies go bye-bye now?" Jeff asked

"Okay, Jeffro. Let's take care of the other two."

"Yay! Mebbe after we rescue Glenn, he'll buy me Skittles?"

"I'm sure he will." _Although he'd rather have bamboo splinters stuck under his fingernails._

"So what's the plan, Matty? They have guns and we don't." Randy stated. "In the past twelve hours, I have been shot at twice and had a gun put to my head. If there is any way that future instances of this can be avoided, I'd appreciate it."

"Hmm... Jeff, are there any bullets left in Tom's gun?" One bullet would be nice, anything more than that was hoping just a little too much.

Jeff popped the clip and stared into it, then ejected the chamber.

"Four." He announced happily.

"Four?" Matt repeated "How the fuck...?"

"Tommy always keeps an extra cartridge in my 'Vette. I grabbed it while he and Cooper were watchin' for Patrick."

"Smart thinking, bro."

Jeff beamed at the compliment. "Now people will love me for my brains instead of just my mouth and ass?"

"I wouldn't go that far." Randy joked

"Poopie-head!" Jeff exclaimed "Fine! Imma do it myself!"

"Jeffro, don't be..."

Glaring at both his brother and Randy, Jeff boldly walked up to the door that the last flunkie had come out of. Without even a word, he kicked it open and ran inside.

"Freeze, baddies!" Matt and Randy heard Jeff shout, then there was a bang... and silence.


	18. Broke, Busted, and Disgusted

Fearing the worst, Matt and Randy rushed into the abandoned warehouse. What they saw shocked the both of them. Taylor was lying on the floor, a nice hole in the middle of his forehead. Judging by the expression on his face, the fact that he was now dead was a total surprise to him. Cliff was looking from the dead body to Glenn, then at Jeff, then back at the body.

"I th-th-thought we had a deal," he whined at Glenn.

"I only promised that I could keep you safe from Patrick and Cooper." Glenn smirked. "I didn't say nothin' 'bout no trigger-happy Hardy brother."

Cliff's hands were shaking violently. He made no effort to get at his gun, which might have temporarily saved his life.

"Please..." he whispered, "don't kill me."

"Give me your gun." Matt stepped forward.

Cliff whined, but did what Matt had demanded.

"Now untie our friend." Matt waved Cliff's gun for incentive, even though Cliff seemed to be willing to do anything to save his sorry hide.

Cliff swallowed loudly. He quickly undid the knots that bound Glenn to the chair. He scrambled away when Glenn glared at him.

"Now get the fuck outta here." Matt pointed at the door.

Cliff didn't need to be told twice. In seconds, he was out the door and they heard the sounds of an engine as he drove away.

"Why'd you let him go?" Randy asked.

"Yeah... I wanted to shoot another of the bad mens." Jeff scrunched up his face, genuinely disappointed that he hadn't been able to finish off Cliff.

"There's been enough bloodshed for one day," Matt answered. "If he's smart, he'll get out of town and never come back. If he isn't, then he better hope that he never runs into either Cooper or Patrick."

"Speaking of Cooper, maybe we should go see if he needs any help?" Jeff asked hopefully.

"I'm sure he and Tom have everything under control." Rubbing his wrists to restore some circulation, Glenn joined the trio.

"Who asked you, Crispy Critter?" Jeff shouted.

"Uh, you did?" Glenn was a little surprised at Jeff's outburst. "Or was that rhetorical question?"

"I dunno what a ree-tor-ick-kill question is, but what if Patrick hurt them? What if they're lying in a ditch somewhere... what if...?"

"Easy, bro. Don't get all worked up over nothing," Matt cautioned "You know what usually happens."

Jeff pouted.

"Although, I do agree with him. We know the address. Maybe we should check it out. Just in case." Never willing to admit that Jeff's anxieties were valid, but if Patrick was able to carry out the rest of his plan, a little extra muscle might be a good idea.

"Whatever." Glenn shrugged "I'm sure by now, Cooper has killed Patrick, rescued the others, and James has even had time to make several rude comments to your brother, but I'm game if you are."

Matt called for a taxi.

"Should we do something with these bodies?" Jeff asked while they waited.

"Fuck 'em," Randy replied.

Matt, Jeff, and Glenn looked at the Legend-killer with expressions that ranged from shock to amusement, to outright disgust.

"I didn't mean it that way. Fuck, why do you Hardys always take everything so literally? I meant just leave them here. Let the police deal with them at some point."

"I ain't a Hardy and I thought you meant it the same way." Glenn folded his arms.

"Well, you're just twisted. We all know that."

"I agree with Randy. These two Jabronis don't concern us any more. Let's leave them for the authorities..."

Two honks of a car horn ended their discussion prematurely.

"I guess so." The quartet exited the building. To their surprise, it was the same cab that had dropped them off earlier in the day.

"Where to now?"

"3427 Harrison Street." Matt said immediately. In hindsight, it might have been a good idea to get dropped off somewhere nearby, but it quickly became irrelevant.

"Hmm." The cabbie frowned, quickly flipping through his messages.

"Problem?" Glenn asked, preparing to morph into Kane if necessary.

"I'll get you as close as I can, but that part of the street has been blocked off."

"Blocked off? Why?" Matt leaned over the seat.

"There's a two-alarm blaze on that street. Actually, it's at that address." The cabbie turned his screen so Matt could see.

"Harrison St at Union blocked. Fire at 3427..." It went on to list the detours that were to be used.

_Fuck. We might be too late._ "Just get us as close as you can. And hurry."

"You got it."

.................

"Fuck!" Patrick shouted at the top of his lungs. "Fuck fuck fuck!" Tonight was turning out to be one shitty ass night for him. Tom and Cooper had shown up uninvited, he had burned down his house and now his Buick decided to stop running. He had barely gotten pulled over before the car had stalled completely and now he took the keys out of the ignition. Now he wasn't a mechanic by any means, but smoke coming out from under the fucking hood of any car was not a good sign. "Shit fuck shit fuck!" he yelled as he got out of the car. He almost went to pop the hood open but then he decided against it. If (and he was sure this was a big if) Cooper and Tom got James, Mark and Connor out, he couldn't waste time by being open and exposed like this out on the road.

Pulling his hood over his head, he began walking as fast as he could. He needed to get a cab or something. He could get a cab to take him to Tim's club and from there he could see if the flunkies he had hired were there. If they were, he was going to kill them for not doing their job properly. And if they weren't there, he would take one of Tim's cars, find and kill them and make sure all his other loose ends were tied up. Then he would happily get the fuck out of this town.

_On second thought, forget the cab,_ he thought to himself as he saw a convertible sitting not too far from his Buick. _Maybe I'll just take this instead. This will be a hell of a lot faster than hailing a cab after all._

...................

James did his best to help make sure Mark didn't fall over on his ass. They had gotten away from the fiery scene on Harrison Street and on the way, Cooper had torn a long branch from a tree that Mark was now using as a cane. They all knew that James, Mark and Connor needed medical attention, but all three were refusing it until Patrick was killed. They were trying to get to where Cooper and Tom had parked the vehicle they had come in so they could drive around and find the dead man walking. _Well, one of the dead men walking anyway,_ James thought to himself as he glared at Tom. _There's another one right here that's going to get it as soon as my arms start working properly again._

"We've just got another block to go," Cooper told them. He was either intentionally or unintentionally walking a lot closer to Tom than James felt comfortable with. And judging from the apprehensive look on Tom's face, he didn't look entirely comfortable either. "And I'm just telling you bastards now that I'm driving this thing. I stole it so I drive it."

"Oh no, we're going to die," Connor groaned.

Cooper glared at him. "Hey! You're not going to die! Why would I save you just to kill you myself?"

"Uh...because you're you?" Mark guessed.

"Ha ha, very funny," Cooper said sarcastically. He looked at James. "You know Tim Wolfe?"

"Doesn't he own a whole bunch of clubs and shit like that?" James asked, still keeping his eye on Tom. He knew Mark wanted him to wait and confront Tom after the whole Patrick thing was over, but he wasn't sure if he could wait that long. After everything that had happened last time a Hardy and a Lawson hooked up, he did not want to repeat the experience.

"Yeah," Cooper said. "And he has the same last name as Patrick and stuff--"

"You think they're related," Mark guessed.

Cooper nodded. "Yeah, I think they are. I mean, it would make sense. The flunkies that attacked us and took Glenn--"

"Flunkies have Glenn?" Mark and James said at the same time.

Cooper grinned sheepishly. "Oh yeah, I forgot to mention that. But don't worry; Matt, Randy and Jeff are working on saving him."

Yeah, that didn't make James feel better at all. Matt might be capable but Randy had proven himself to be a good kidnap victim before and Jeff was...well he was Jeff and that explained just about everything in a nutshell. "Well let's just hope that Glenn can get himself free," he said with a shake of his head. "He might be better off that way." They were now approaching the car that Cooper and Tom had stolen. "Cooper, Connor, could you help Mark get in that thing?" he asked. "My shoulders--

"Sure," Cooper said quickly. "No problem Daddy."

"Yeah," Connor said helpfully. "I help too!"

Mark groaned. "Damn it, I'm not completely crippled! You don't need to--"

"Just shut up and move Deadman," Cooper said rudely.

James let them get a little bit ahead of him before grabbing Tom and pulling him behind the nearest tree. His shoulders were still killing him, but he forced himself to put one of his hands around Tom's throat and the other across Tom's mouth so nobody could hear him yell for help. "Let me make this clear to you Hardy," James growled. "I know that you and Cooper fucked. I could tell just by the way you two were acting back at that house that something happened. And let me--"

Tom, obviously having some sort of flashback to the last time James was this close to his throat, punched James on the shoulder as hard as he could. James quickly let Tom go while cussing in pain. "Mother fucker! Was that really necessary?"

"You grabbed me first," Tom replied, rubbing where his scar was. "And I don't see how what Cooper and I did is any of your business."

"Oh it is my business," James told him. "My boys are my business. No, scratch that: my boys are my fucking world. And I already played this fucking game with you Hardys, so I really don't want Cooper doing it too."

"Tom shook his head. "This wasn't even supposed to happen Lawson. I just want to make that perfectly clear."

"It doesn't matter what was supposed to happen," James told him. "What matters is that it did happen."

"You don't think I know that?" Tom asked. "I have a lovely little reminder of what happens when Hardys mess with Lawsons." He pointed to the scar on his neck.

"So if you knew, why did you do it?" That was the million dollar question that needed to be answered.

Tom threw up his hands. "I don't know, okay? He was coming completely unglued without you guys. He was a sexually frustrated, homicidal, ticking time bomb! So I decided to fuck him and get him at least a little bit grounded again. It's not like it's going to happen again."

James continued with his glaring. He was glad to hear it would only be a one time thing, but that still didn't make him happy about the situation in general. "It better be just a one time thing," he said angrily. "Or you and I are going to have some serious problems." He frowned. "What are you going to tell Jeff?"

Tom shook his head. "Let me worry about that. Right now I just want Patrick to die so I can get the hell out of your life again."

"That sounds fucking awesome to me," James said, honestly meaning that. He didn't know what Cooper was thinking and he honestly didn't want to know right now. Right now, he wanted to focus on getting rid of Patrick and then having Tom and the rest of the Hardys exit his life, hopefully for the final fucking time.

So, with that settled, James and Tom stepped out from behind the tree….only to come face to face with Cooper. James winced at the look on his son's face. "Oh shit," he muttered.

"Out of the mouths of psychos," Tom said under his breath.

Cooper scowled, his hands actually shaking at the moment. "You know, it's really rude to talk about this kind of stuff and not give one of the people involved any say in it," he growled.

James sighed. He wasn't sure if Cooper had heard every word but he had obviously heard more than enough. "Cooper—"

"Fuck you Dad," Cooper interrupted. He looked over at Tom. "And fuck you too. You fucking…I…just forget it. I'm out of here. Mark and Connor are in the car waiting for you guys."

"Cooper wait," James said. He reached out and grabbed Cooper's arm. That proved to be a mistake because the next thing he knew, both he and Tom were getting punched in the face. The force of Cooper's punch actually stunned him for a minute, and when he looked up, Tom was spitting out blood and Cooper was gone. _Oh shit, that is not good at all._

...

"This is as close as I can get." The cab driver pulled up to intersection of Harrison and Union. "I hope this will do."

"I guess it will have to." Matt stated "Randy, pay him while we see what we can do."

"Do I look like your personal banker?" Randy complained

"I'll pay you back when we get home." Matt said with an evil grin.

"Icky thoughts!" Jeff announced

"Sex is not icky. It's a beautiful expression of love between two people..."

"It's still icky!" Jeff opened the door and tried to get out, only to realize that he'd forgotten to unbuckle his seat belt. Once he'd released himself, and nearly hitting Matt in the face, only then did the ickiness disappear. "'Specially when I don't get any!"

"That's not my problem." Randy stated

"But payin' for the cab is." Matt also stepped out.

Shaking his head, Randy reached into his wallet to pay the driver.

"You want me to run them over?" The driver asked with a joking gleam in his eye.

"Much as it would make my life easier, I think I'll pass. Maybe next time." Randy gave the man some money and joined Matt and Jeff on the sidewalk, just outside a hastily erected barrier.

"How the hell are we gonna get close enough?" Jeff looked like he was willing to jump the cordon and run into the burning building if necessary.

"We might not have to." Matt answered "Call Tom and see what's goin' on?"

"Imma hope you're right. Inferno matches are not my specialty." Jeff called Tom.

"Tommy?" He asked "Is that you?"

"Who else would it be?" Tom answered

"I dunno. Your voice sounds different." Jeff replied

"Oh." Tom answered "Thorry." He winced at the unintentional Swagger impression and took the handkerchief he'd been using to stop the bleeding from his mouth, scrunching it into a ball. _Fucker punches about as hard as he comes._ "Is that better?"

"You're safe!" Jeff shouted "Yayz!"

"Well, sorta. We rescued James, Mark, and Connor but Patrick got away and Cooper... well, Cooper ran after him."

"Where are you?" Jeff asked

"Parked around the corner. Where are you?"

"At the corner of Union." Jeff stated

"Matt and Randy with you?"

"Yeppers."

"Good. Wait there for us. This isn't over yet." Tom hung up the phone and stared at James. "Not a fucking word, understand me. Not a fucking word."

James glared at the elder Hardy. _You better hope nothing happens to Cooper or I will fuck you up worse than last time. That's a promise._


	19. One Step Closer

Cooper didn't know where he was running to. He was just running to get away from the whole fucked up situation his life had turned into. _This is all Patrick's fault,_ he thought bitterly. _He took Dad, Mark and Connor and forced me to turn to Tom for help. This is his fault._ And since he was the primary cause of all this, Cooper realized that he needed to pay first and foremost. But what about after that? Killing Patrick would only make him feel better for a little while. That wouldn't change the fact that he was still furious at James, Tom and himself. _Dad needs to fucking stay out of my business. I swear to God, if I fuck anyone but Connor, he acts like I'm being stolen from him. And Tom...well what else could I have expected? He has Jeff. That's who he loves. Even after everything they've done to each other, they still love each other. That's not going to change just because of me._

And that led to the reason Cooper was mad at himself most of all. Without realizing it and without any reasonable explanation for it, he wanted something more for the first time in a long time. And what had happened yet again? It got all fucked up, just like it always did. It seemed like any time he let himself feel something, he got burned by it. _Well fuck that shit. I'm done. Fuck everyone else. They can all just go to hell._

Realizing that he needed wheels again, he took the liberty of stealing the nearest vehicle, which turned out to be a big old Jeep. As he drove off in it, he tried to clear his mind and just focus on the fact that Patrick needed a good killing. But as hard as he tried, his mind kept getting away from him. First it went to Connor. Connor wasn't the one he lost his virginity to (the person who had taken that was one of the many faceless and nameless people he had fucked over the years) but Connor was the first one he had ever felt something for. Unfortunately, Connor was almost impossible to have that kind of relationship with for any extended period of time. Sure, when he was in the mood, Connor was one of the best fucks around. But those moods came once in a blue moon and most of the time, he was more content to stay in his own little world, which was something Cooper couldn't deal with all the time.

The thought of going to Raul again crossed Cooper's mind, but he quickly shook that off. Despite the fact that he usually got a lot of cool shit when he was with Raul, more often than not, he felt like a damn trophy fuck. And seeing as how Raul had several other trophy fucks, it wasn't like that was a special honor or anything. _So who the fuck does that leave me with? There's Rob, Sabu and Sandman but I haven't even seen them in years. What would I say to them? "Yeah I was the crazy fourteen year old that snorted coke and slept with just about anyone who wanted it. Mind if I crash on your couch so I can try to hide from the fact that I had sex with Tom fucking Hardy and now he's going back to his twink of a husband, who I also wouldn't mind fucking?"_ Well actually, that was something the three ECW Originals wouldn't bat an eye at. And hell, he stayed with them before right after he found out Mark was his real dad and he didn't deal with it well. At least one of them would probably take him in so he could run away from another problem.

So, feeling a tiny bit better about having an option to bail if necessary, he decided to just go to the nearest club that he knew Tim owned and see if he could find Patrick there. If Patrick was there, he would kill the asshole and get it over with. If Patrick wasn't there, then Tim's only chance at survival would be to help Cooper find the dead man walking. Then, once the dust was settled and Patrick was dismembered, he'd kill Tim anyway and try to deal with the fallout of what he and Tom did.

_I should just forget about it,_ he told himself. _Forget we ever did anything and let him go back to Jeff and just move on. _But in his state of rage, that sounded like the last thing he should do._ I should tell Jeff about what happened. Let's test just how much shit their relationship can really take. Or better yet...I should just fuck Jeff myself just to spite Tom._

Spite was appealing, but what would that solve? The logical part of his brain started pointed out all the flaws to that plan. It wasn't going to change what Tom had said to James, and it wasn't going to keep James out of the way. In fact, it was just going to drum up more Lawson/Hardy drama and then he was still going to end up getting burned again somehow. _Dad and Mark had each other to go back to when Tom and Jeff patched things up...all I have is Connor. And Connor doesn't need me. Not in the way I want to be needed. Fuck, I think leaving after all this is the only real fucking option I have._

.........

Tim's club was closed for renovation but Patrick knew he would be there. This club was Tim's very first one, and he treated it better than he did any human being. "TIM!" he shouted at the top of his lungs as he burst through the front door. "TIMOTHY!"

Tim came out of the back room as fast as he could. He knew that the tone his cousin was using could only mean trouble. "Patrick please, what--"

Patrick grabbed him by the throat and slammed him up against the wall. "Your little flunkies have screwed everything up!" he snarled. "I've lost all control of this situation and you're going to help me get it back!"

Tim made a choking noise. The grip Patrick had on his neck was causing his face to start turning purple. "Hey man, let him go," one of the workers said. A couple of them tried to pull Patrick off of his weasel cousin. "You're--"

Patrick let Tim go and snarled at all of them. He really was not in the mood to put up with anyone right now. In fact, he was already reaching into for his gun and was planning on happily shooting all of the workers in the head when Tim opened up his big mouth.

"Just go!" he told his hired help. "Now! I've got this!"

"But---"

"Now damn it!" Tim exclaimed, giving Patrick a fearful look. As much as he was afraid to be with Patrick alone, he knew that not doing so would only infuriate Patrick further. "I've got control of this!"

The workers didn't look like they believed that, but they left anyway. Patrick watched them go, fighting the urge to shoot them in the back of the head as they did so. "Jesus Patrick, what the hell happened?" Tim asked, rubbing his throat gingerly. "You--"

"Your fucking little flunkies have made my plans go to hell," Patrick growled. "They fucked up."

"Patrick I'm sure--"

Patrick grabbed Tim by the shirt and slammed him up against the wall. "THEY FUCKED UP!" he screamed. "That's what they fucking did! Now you're going to get those assholes back here so I can kill them, or so help me God, you're fucking next!"

Tim put up his hands as a sign of defeat. "Okay okay! Calm down please, just calm down! I'll get them here and we'll get this all straightened out, okay?"

Patrick scowled and let Tim start making some calls. _Tim better hope that I can get my hands on his stupid fucking flunkies or he's getting killed instead. I'm not fucking joking right now._

* * *

Tom learned a couple of important lessons that day. The first was that fucking a Lawson was under no circumstances, a good idea. The second was that James was just as susceptible to threats as anyone else. He glared at James one final time. "You want us Hardys outta your life, you keep your fucking mouth shut." He growled before climbing into the back seat of the car. It was a tight squeeze, but the eight of them managed to fit.

"I vote that we steal a bigger car the first chance we get," James announced.

"Or at least a second one," Mark stated.

"Yeah! That'll be fun!" Connor squealed.

"I'm sure Marky-Mark could use the leg room too," Tom added.

"Don't fuckin' test me, boy." Mark turned to stare at him. Tom shrugged. He'd already fucked a Lawson, been punched by that same Lawson, and then threatened by another Lawson. Threats from a non-Lawson were minor compared to that.

James suddenly swerved off the road and into the parking lot of a large mall. "Find a car and let's go."

"Do we have any idea where we're heading?" Matt asked while Connor sniffed out a decent vehicle.

"Beats the fuck outta me," Randy shrugged "Maybe's he's goin' after Patrick?"

"We already figured that out, brainiac!" James roared. Randy shrunk back against Matt.

"Just chill the fuck out. I know you want to rip Patrick limb from limb, but you could stand to be civil for once," Tom groaned

"I don't do civil to family members of people I hate," James yelled. "Connor, what the fuck is taking you so long... Connor!"

The sound of an engine coming to life startled everyone. Even more so when Connor suddenly drove by in a Black Dodge Charger.

"Too easy!" he smiled, a rather creepy smile, even by James' standards.

"We still don't have any idea where the fuck we're going, do we?" Mark demanded, lifting his top half out of the car. His knee still bothered him, Tom noted with an ironic smile. Just like what Mark had done to him all those months ago.

"Why don't one of you call him?" Jeff suggested.

Both Mark and James looked at him.

"Why the fuck didn't we think of that?" James snapped.

"I dunno. He's your kid," Mark replied.

"Actually, he's yours," James corrected

"Only because Annabelle fucked anything when she was drunk."

The Hardys and Randy braced for a fight. James glared at Mark and for a moment, Mark almost backed down, but then he realized people were watching so he returned the glare.

"Could we Springer this later?" Connor demanded. "I wanna kill Patrick then get home. Snoopy's waiting for me."

"Yeah. This is the longest Lizzie's been without Jeffers since she was born," Matt added.

"Who cares about your yucky dog?" Connor sneered. Even now, he had to be himself.

"Lizzie's not yucky!" Jeff shouted. "'Sides, Snoopy likes her!"

"He does not!" Connor yelled.

"Dontcha remember when we took them outside. Snoopy was all over her!" Jeff put his hands on his hips, a sign that he was gonna start a full-blown pout very soon.

"He was not!"

"Was too!"

"Was not!"

"Was too!"

"Was not not not!"

"Too too too!"

"Not not not infinity!"

"Too too too infinity plus one!"

"Enough!" James bellowed. "I don't give a shit about either of your mangy animals, okay? Let's just get in the cars, and get this over with so we can all go back to our happy little lives! Anyone who's related to me by either blood, fucking, or creepiness get in this car. The rest of you motherfuckers take the other one!"

Connor, Mark, James, and Glenn piled into the one car and Matt, Jeff, Tom, and Randy took the black one.

"Please Lord, do not let me get pulled over." Tom prayed that wherever they were going, it was not a far drive. He had no idea how long until the owner discovered that his or her car was missing and called the police.

"Hey, Lawson!" Tom shouted

James turned around.

"No one calls..."

"Whatever!" Tom interrupted him. "The arena's twenty minutes from here. I'm stopping and swapping this for my rental."

"So?"

"Just thought I'd let ya know." Tom sped out of the parking lot. Twenty minutes later, he pulled into the arena parking lot and was surprised to see that the other car was waiting for them. He'd lost them five minutes after leaving the mall and had assumed, incorrectly, that they were going on without them which frankly would have been completely alright.

"Found a shortcut. Now get your fuckin' car and let's go. I wanna get there before my boy makes me proud!" James yelled.

Two minutes was all it took and the motorcade was back in pursuit.

..............

Cooper's phone kept vibrating inside of his pocket. Mark and James were taking turns calling him non-stop. He almost answered it once just to yell and get his shit off his chest, but he decided not to at the last minute. He wanted Mark to stay out of his business if it was at all possible. And as for James, Cooper was nowhere near ready to talk to his dad. James didn't handle getting yelled at very well and if Cooper got started in the mood he was in now, the whole thing was just going to turn into a full blown screaming match.

He passed the club Tim owned once, not seeing the Buick parked in front of it. That didn't mean anything though. Patrick could still be there, plotting and scheming like the little that he was. Driving back around, Cooper parked the stolen Jeep a couple of blocks away. Ignoring his vibrating phone, he took off running, very aware of how alone he really was. _It's better this way,_ he told himself as he got closer and closer to the club. _It really is. I don't need anybody else. I can kill Patrick all by myself and end this whole fucked up saga._

When he got back to the club, he went around to the back of it and entered through a door back there. That led him to finding himself in a room full of booze. _Oh sweet, I'm in a storage room. Once I kill this fucker I can get so wasted that I pass out._ That actually sounded really appealing at the moment, and he had to force himself to leave the room quickly so he didn't get started right then and there. He crept through the club, following the sounds of Patrick's yelling and what was probably Tim's pathetic pleas for mercy. Cooper almost just went straight out to get the fucker, but then he decided to take a left turn and go into Tim's office. He went over to the desk that was in the middle of the room and started opening the drawers. He found a gun in the third drawer he opened, and he grabbed and the extra clips that went with it. There was no way he was going to allow Patrick to die of a simple gunshot wound. Oh no, the death had to be more painful than that. But given the fact that Patrick tended to play with guns, Cooper felt like he needed to be prepared with one of his own.

A loud gunshot went off as he exited Tim's office. He froze, quieting his breathing as best as he could. Patrick was no longer yelling and Tim was no longer pleading. That was probably not a good sign. Taking the safety off the gun, Cooper walked towards the main part of the club. He could hear Patrick start to curse again, and there was some crashing sounds. Things were getting knocked over because of this temper tantrum. Stupid asshole was a big baby. That's all he fucking was.

Taking one last deep breath, Cooper turned the corner and raised his gun, ready to take Patrick's knees out. At that moment, Patrick spun around, his own gun raised. Neither one of them fired, each of them surprised that the other one had a weapon pointed at them. For a really long moment, they just stared at each other. Finally, Patrick began to smile. "So it's come down to this," he said quietly.

"Yeah," Cooper said. "It's show time bitch."


	20. Atonement

_Okay, I'm really not a fan of this gun bullshit,_ Cooper thought to himself as he and Patrick continued to stare each other down. Patrick looked completely at ease with his weapon; the fact that the shoulder Cooper had stabbed earlier in the house rendered that arm nearly useless didn't seem to matter to him at the moment. Cooper on the other hand had both of his hands holding his gun up and it reminded him of how he felt the one time he grabbed some girl's boob so see if he had a straight bone in his body. _This feels so wrong. I hate this thing. It's too...too...well I'm too fucking pissed off and tense to think of the word but it's that! Fuck, I need an ax or a knife or something else besides this._

Patrick smirked. "What's wrong? Not liking the weapon?"

"It'll do," Cooper said quietly. "It's not like I'm going to kill you with this thing--"

Patrick interrupted him with a laugh. "Looking for the up close and personal kill? Oh Cooper, you would be better off just shooting me right between the eyes right here, right now."

"No, I really wouldn't," Cooper replied. "That would be too quick and way too impersonal. Now we Lawsons aren't exactly known for our patience, so you're not going to get drawn out for days like you attempted to do with Dad and the others."

"Oh what, am I not special enough for you people?" Patrick asked sarcastically.

"No, actually you aren't," Cooper informed him. "Now I don't know what we ever did to you personally, but if we did do something, I'm telling you right now that's not why you started this little game of yours. You probably said it was, but we both know that's a lie."

Patrick almost smiled. "Your father killed my parents and made me into this...this monster..."

"Bullshit!" Cooper said, but not because he doubted what James had done. No, it was the second part that he had an objection to. "Don't try to fool me. I can tell that you fucking LOVE what you are. Your voice, your eyes--they give you away. Dad may have killed your parents, but I bet you were actually happy to have them gone. When you were a little kid you probably tortured animals to get your rocks off. You started fires and fights and you probably wet the damn bed until you grew hair on your balls." Cooper smirked. "This was never about revenge Patrick. I see it in your eyes. This was about power and control and now it's eating you up that you lost all of that, isn't it?"

Patrick's eye twitched. Cooper had definitely hit the nail on the head and that bothered the older man greatly. "Wow, I guess you just know everything, don't you Cooper? You've got me all figured out. But what about you? Huh? Do you even realize how pathetic you are?"

"Me? I'm pathetic?" Cooper snorted. "That's big talk to for a guy who's going to be dead before tomorrow morning." His finger started heading for the trigger. He wanted to shoot Patrick somewhere that wouldn't be fatal but would take him down and made sure he stayed helpless.

"Do you like being the one that's always alone?" Patrick said quickly, making Cooper pause against his will. "See, I've been watching your whole family for quite some time now. And I've noticed you're always the one left out in the cold. I mean, James has Mark...and sometimes Jeff. And Connor's usually way too lost in his own world to ever pay attention to you properly. Yet you're supposed to just stick by his side no matter what, forgetting your own needs and trying to ignore the fact that you feel alone--"

Cooper fired the gun, burying a bullet in Patrick's thigh and shutting him the hell up. The crap Patrick had been going on and on about was not something Cooper wanted to think about at the moment. Not when he couldn't deny what was being said. _Not being able to hide from the truth really sucks,_ he thought to himself as he walked over to Patrick and began punching him in the face over and over again. _It really really--_

A loud bang and a terrible pain in the side of Cooper's leg interrupted that thought and made him curse loudly. Patrick got his good leg up and kicked Cooper in the stomach, causing him to fall over. It took Cooper a moment to realize that he had just been shot. "Mother fucker!" he yelled loudly, putting his hand over the bleeding wound while trying to scoot back.

"Hurts doesn't it?" Patrick growled. He was up on his good leg and he had his gun pointed at Cooper's face. "Huh? Tell me it hurts!"

Cooper grinned despite his situation. "Fuck you mother fucker," he said spitefully. "The only thing that hurts here is looking at your face!"

Patrick shook his head. "Defiant till the end, aren't you?"

Cooper chose to respond to that by kicking Patrick in the balls. Patrick doubled over in pain, which gave Cooper enough time to stand on his own good leg and spear Patrick to the ground. Covering his bases, he made sure to toss both guns away so that they wouldn't be a factor anymore. The guns landed near Tim's lifeless body, and his dead eyes stared as Cooper and Patrick wrestled all across the floor.

"Come on you cocksucker," Cooper growled. He grabbed Patrick's head and smashed it against the floor like it was a basketball. For some reason, Patrick's hands were coming up to defend himself, and Cooper decided to look back and see what the man underneath him was up to. As it turned out, it was a good thing that he did that because Patrick had been trying to reach into his pocket to pull out some kind of tranquilizer. "No way mother fucker!" Cooper yelled angrily. He emptied Patrick's pockets and tossed all the shit in there away. "You don't get to--"

Patrick's foot came up and connected right with Cooper's mouth. Cooper's head rocked back with the impact and made him fall back a bit. Patrick rolled over on his stomach and began crawling towards the things that had just been taken away. Spitting out a large amount of blood (and possibly a tooth), he grabbed Patrick's ankles and yanked him back within reach. "What did I just say to you?" he asked while punching the back of Patrick's neck. "Huh? What did I just fucking say?"

Patrick to roll over so he could fight Cooper off, but Cooper wasn't having any of that. Patrick wasn't so tough when he didn't have his little surprises with him. Cooper had thought this was probably going to be the case earlier, and it was nice to be proven right. He needed it now more than usually did. "You know Patrick, you had us all going there for awhile," he said, punching Patrick's spine and kidneys as hard as he could. "You really did. But do you want to know what you're mistake was? Huh?"

"Cooper..." Patrick said, grunting in pain as Cooper flipped him over on to his back.

Cooper grabbed him by the throat and squeezed just hard enough to cause a little choking. "Your mistake was messing with my family," he said quietly, staring into Patrick's soulless eyes. "Nobody messes with us and lives to tell the tale." Suddenly his mind drifted towards Tom, which pissed him off even more. "Well...almost nobody." His mind kept going back to the incident in the shed earlier, and it wasn't until Patrick began kicking his feet that he realized his grip was getting way too tight. Letting out a growl of frustration, he began punching his family's kidnapper as hard as he could. Over and over his fist connected with Patrick's face, his mind going blissfully blank as all of his rage and frustration began to pour out of him. He could feel bones breaking from the assault and he wasn't sure if they were from Patrick's face or from his knuckles. He honestly didn't think it mattered either way. What mattered was that pain was getting caused and his own fucked up existence was being temporarily forgotten.

A loud crash from outside pulled him back into reality. He panted for breath, staring down at Patrick broken and bloody face. "Dumb mother fucker," he said, spitting right in the bastard's face. "Stupid piece of shit, you--"

The door to the club burst open and Connor came running in. "Cooper!" he shouted, nearly falling over his own two feet. "You ran away Cooper! Don't do that again! That bad!"

"Yeah, now you care," Cooper muttered under his breath.

Connor heard that and he got a hurt look on his face. "I do care!" he insisted. "I care lots." He looked down at Patrick. "Me punch him?"

Cooper got up and backed away, watching Connor jump on Patrick like a tiger going for its wounded prey. It wasn't until he heard someone else coming in that he looked up and saw that it was James, Glenn and Mark. "Is HE with you?" he growled. He didn't bother to clarify who he was talking about. James already knew.

"He's got his brothers and Randy in the other car," James said. "He--"

"Keep them all out of here," Cooper growled, turning away from his dad. "They're not a part of this anymore."

"I'll tell them," Glenn said quickly.

"Good." Cooper began to walk away.

"Cooper wait," James ordered. "I--"

"Just get to the torturing James," Cooper said, not bothering to turn around. "He's got hell to pay doesn't he?"

"Cooper--"

Cooper ignored James and limped back to the room that he had seen the booze in earlier. His leg was throbbing horribly but it was almost comforting. It gave him something else to concentrate on for awhile. "Finally," he muttered as he entered the room, grabbing the first two bottles of whiskey he saw. He sat down on the floor and ripped his jeans a little bit so he could pour some of the alcohol on his wound before chugging a good three fourths of the bottle in one gulp. Doing that made his throat burn horribly, but it wasn't until he couldn't breathe that he stopped. "Fuck," he said, shaking his head and blinking away the involuntary tears that had been caused by the burning. He took a few deep breaths before chugging the rest of the bottle, tossing it against the wall and making it smash to pieces after he was done with it. The second bottle went as quickly as the first one, and after that, he started feeling a little bit woozy. _Okay, that shit was stronger than I thought,_ he thought as he laid down and rested his head on the cool floor. _I'm just going to close my eyes and wait for it to wear off before I start drinking more._

................

Glenn leaned back against the wall and watched as James, Mark and Connor have their way with Patrick. The man's screams filled the club, but they weren't landing on merciful ears. There was nobody around for miles that would give a shit about his fate, which was how it should be. Over the past few hours, James had taken Annabelle's locket back and he had managed to find an ice pick behind the bar, so that had been used to cut and stab the shit out of Patrick. Mark had taken the liberty of shooting both of Patrick's kneecaps into bits and Connor had basically picked up where Cooper had left off in beating Patrick's face in.

But as fun as they were all having, the effects of their captivity were obviously wearing on them. They were tired and in pain, and Connor and James's attention spans were starting to be really tested. Now they knew they could just take Patrick home and torture him there when they were rested, but Glenn could tell that everyone just wanted this guy out of their hair for good. Having him around reminded them of the fact that he had gotten the best of them for a short period of time, which was obviously causing a lot of irritation.

"Let's nail him up over the bar," James said. "That would be a good place for him." There were a whole bunch of hammers and nails that had been left laying around, so his plan was definitely doable.

"You guys do that," Glenn said. "I'm going to go find Cooper."

James paused. "Do you think I should--"

"Talk to him?" Glenn shrugged. "I don't think that's the best idea right now. I don't know exactly what you did, but you know how he is when he's pissed."

James sighed and started helping Connor and Mark with their current plan for Patrick. Glenn shook his head and began looking for Cooper. The search took awhile, but he finally found the younger man passed out on the floor in the back room. Sighing, he bent down and touched his nephew on the shoulder. "Cooper?"

Cooper groaned and opened his eyes. "Crispy, hand me another bottle of whiskey, will ya?"

"No, I will not," Glenn replied. "You've had enough. Now come on, the others are finishing up with Patrick."

Cooper blinked sleepily. "Wait, how long was I out?"

"A few hours," Glenn told him. He helped the younger man up to his feet. "Your exhaustion must have made the booze hit you faster than it normally would."

"That and I chugged it," Cooper said, giggling and nearly falling over.

Glenn sighed and kept a good grip on Cooper as they walked back out towards the others. It had been a long time since Cooper had been in a state like this and it had him worried. Cooper had the tendency to bottle everything up and when it became too much for him to handle, he usually got into a very self destructive state of mind. Drinking until he passed out was one of the behaviors he did when he got that way.

"The nails aren't holding him up right," Connor said as Glenn and Cooper rejoined the group. "He fell off so we've got another plan."

"What--okay, that's just disgusting," Glenn said when he saw what was happening to Patrick.

James and Mark ignored him as they continued with their current plan--which was skinning Patrick alive.

Glenn sighed and shook his head. He could stomach a lot of things, but that was not one of them. "I'm going to take Cooper out of the car," he told the others.

"Car is nice," Cooper muttered, his mind still clouded with exhaustion and booze. "I likes the car."

"Well that's good. I'm glad you do." Glenn looked at Patrick one last time, watching as the man screamed for his life. "I think I'm going to like it to." With that, the Big Red Machine threw Cooper over his shoulder and carried him out to the car. But even out there, they could still hear the screams of the soon to be dead man that was learning it was never wise to fuck with the Lawson family.

Glenn was so concerned with getting Cooper into the car that he didn't notice that the other car was gone. A lone figure stood silently against a tree, watching Glenn put the drunken Lawson into the passenger seat and occasionally turning his head toward the club when another scream erupted, but these were becoming few and far between.

"It'll be over soon." Tom thought "And then the real fun begins."


	21. Say What?

It was another hour later that the Lawson's were finally satisfied with the amount of suffering that they'd inflected upon Patrick. He'd been dead for most of it, but that didn't deter James and Mark from their enjoyment.

Glenn was waiting in the car, one eye zoned in on Cooper and the other waiting for the others.

"That mother fucker won't bother anyone any more." James and Mark looked like victims of one of the Brood's blood baths.

Thankful that this wasn't his Jeep (although it wasn't in much better shape), Glenn waited for them to get into the back seat.

"Hospital?" he asked.

"Fuck that, Critter," James muttered. "We walk in lookin' like this and we ain't walkin' out."

"Home, then?"

"No! I wanna go see Snoopy!" Connor screamed "Daddy, make Glenn take me to see Snoopy!"

"Connor, we'll take you to get your damn dog once Mark and I have a shower and fuck," James stated.

"No! I want Snoopy now!" Connor screamed, beginning to pound the head rest of the front seat in front of him... the one Cooper was leaning against, asleep. He'd passed out completely almost to the second Glenn had got him into the car.

"Fine." Trying to reason with Connor when he was in one of his moods was something James didn't want to do when he was wide awake and he was anything but at that particular moment. "Where is he?"

"He's... Cooper, where's Snoopy!" Connor pounded on the head rest to wake up his brother.

Cooper mumbled something completely unintelligible.

"Leave your brother alone!" James barked. "Ask Jeff or..." Tom's name was like pure poison on his tongue and he couldn't even spit it out. "I'm sure he knows where Snoopy is."

"Where is he?" Connor looked around as if the youngest Hardy could magically appear at his command.

"Car was gone when I got out here. They musta took off," Glenn said "Can we get goin'?"

"Yeah. Sooner we blow the sooner we can forget about this whole shit storm."

Not one of the five of them noticed Tom. If they had, they might have wondered why he hadn't left with his brothers and Randy or better still, why was he walking into the club they had just come out of?

In his life, Tom had always been one to think everything through from start to finish. Yet he had no idea why he was going to do what his mind was telling him he needed to.

He walked through the front doors and quickly looked around. The stench of fresh blood assailed his nostrils. He exhaled loudly, heading for the source of it. It wasn't hard to find. James had thrown Patrick, or what was left of him, against a wall once the skinning was done.

Sliding a little on the trail of gore that led to the body, Tom crouched in front of him, staring into his naked eyeballs, shockingly white against the crimson that was all around.

"You know, it's a good thing they took care of you." Tom didn't care that he was lecturing a dead body in the middle of a deserted bar. Nor did he care that his hands were shaking, his chest was tightening, and tears were starting to flow. "If it wasn't for you, I wouldn't be here, wondering how I'm going to explain to my husband that I violated our vows..."

"I was able to justify my little affair with Mark, but you... you brought out a side of me that I never knew existed. I knowingly fucked another man and I didn't even stop to think about what I was doing. " Tom unholstered his gun and checked the clip. Jeff had left three bullets in it.

Tom stared at it then smiled.

"I wish you were alive to feel the pain I am going through, but since you're not..." Tom fired twice, obliterating what was left of Patrick's skull.

An elderly couple walking their dog past the club, heard the first two shots, then after a minute or two of silence, heard one more.

"What was that?" The matron asked her husband. "It sounded like gunshots."

"Dear, we've been living in this area for almost thirty years. Everything sounds like gunshots to you. It was probably just a car backfiring. Come on, it's getting cold out." He scuttled his wife back toward their home._ I'll be glad when we get into that retirement village. _He stared right at the club when he spoke. _This whole area has gone to the dogs._

...

When Cooper finally woke up, it was not because he wanted to, or because the booze had worn off. It was when Connor and Snoopy decided to jump on him.

"What the fuck... Connor?"

"I got Snoopy back." Connor proclaimed happily, nuzzling his cherished dog.

"So?" Cooper demanded.

"So?" In his naivete, Connor couldn't understand why everyone wasn't as happy to have Snoopy back as he was.

"Connor, just leave me the fuck alone unless you're coming in here to let me plow your ass." Cooper covered his face with a pillow.

"Connor, go play with your dog somewhere else!" Mark barked.

"But..."

"Connor." Mark's used his 'don't-make-me-get-James-up-here' tone.

"Fine," Connor sulked. "Come on Snoopy. Cooper's being a fuckhead."

Snoopy barked once to indicate that yes Cooper was being a fuckhead, then trotted out behind Connor.

"And what do you want?" Cooper demanded, correctly sensing that Mark hadn't left.

"Just stopped in to check on you, kid." Mark leaned against the door frame. "You've been asleep for two days straight."

'Two days... how the hell..." Cooper squinted "Musta been tired or some shit."

"Yeah well we figured you hadn't slept that much during all the chaos," Mark said. "James was in here a lot of the time sitting with you. He told me about confronting Tom and you overhearing it. He thinks you're still mad at him."

"Well tell him I'm over it,"Cooper grumbled. He wasn't even sure if that was really the case, but he really wanted to get Mark to leave so he was willing to say just about anything.

Mark rolled his eyes. "You're not over it you liar. You're hurting and--"

"The only thing that's hurting me is my leg," Cooper snapped. He moved his blankets and saw that the leg that had gotten shot was all wrapped up. "Please tell me the bullet is out of there."

"It is," Mark said with a nod. "James knew a doctor that would keep his mouth shut so he came here and took care of so we didn't have to go to a hospital." He chuckled bitterly. "Of course, I won't be able to avoid the trip forever."

Cooper looked down at Mark's heavily bandaged knee and finally realized the Deadman was on crutches. "Damn Marky, how much more damage can that knee take? If you still weren't fired I would say you should just retire already."

Mark rolled his eyes. "Would you quit focusing on me already? I'm perfectly fine. It's you that we need to be concerned with."

"Why? Because I got drunk and passed out?" Cooper snorted. "Hell, after the past few days, I deserved to be able to do that! Fuck, do you know how hard it was being worried sick about Dad and Connor?" He shook his head and swung his legs around so that he could try to stand up in a couple of minutes. "Hell, I almost missed you too."

"I'm not saying you didn't deserve to get drunk off your ass," Mark said, shutting the door in case this turned into a yelling match (which was how the majority of their private conversations ended). "But I know you Cooper. I know that—"

"What you know comes from watching James raise me from the sidelines," Cooper said irritably. He slowly got up, hardly able to put any weight on his injured leg. _Fuck, I've really got to take a piss right now._

Mark glared at him. "Don't throw that in my face again. That shit is so fucking old that it's not funny."

"I'm not throwing it in your face!" Cooper said defensively. "I'm merely pointing out a fact you seemed to have forgotten."

Mark continued with his glaring. He really had that stare perfected. It was scary to everyone else, but Cooper was so used to it that he shrugged it off. "Look Cooper, I do know you damn it," Mark insisted. "I know how you get when you're rejected. I mean fuck, I've done that shit to you before."

"On more than one occasion," Cooper muttered. He limped over to his closet so he could change his shirt. "So yeah, I guess you're right. You're the one who would know." He put on his Hollywood Undead t-shirt. "Look, this conversation is going to have to wait. I really gotta piss right now."

Mark sighed and opened the door. Cooper left the room as fast as he could and headed to the bathroom, hoping that Mark would just realize that he didn't want to talk and that he should just be left alone. But he had no such luck. As soon as he was done in the bathroom, he found Mark waiting for him. "Okay, you are getting annoying," he said. "I'm gonna tell Dad."

"James is asleep," Mark told him. "And since it's the first time he's slept since the kidnapping thing, you're going to leave him alone."

"Well why can't you just leave me alone too then?" Cooper asked. "God, is that too much to fucking ask?" He tried to just walk away but Mark grabbed his arm and wouldn't let go. "If you think I won't kick you in your knee, you better think again," he growled.

"Boy, would you just listen to me for a second?" Mark growled back. "Let me say what I have to say and then you can tell me to go to hell after I'm done, okay?"

Cooper groaned. Mark wasn't going to stop until he had his way. "Fine," he finally said. "But make it fast."

Mark nodded. "You and Tom—"

"Fucked," Cooper interrupted. "That's all we did was fuck. There was sexual tension, we released it and now we can move on."

"And that's all that was to you? A fuck?"

"Well what else could it be? Tom's married for fuck's sake."

"The way you reacted back when James—"

"Dad should stay out of my business," Cooper snapped. "I'm twenty seven fucking years old. I can fuck whomever I want to fuck. And as for Tom, he should have just told me himself that nothing more was going to happen between us. That wasn't something he even needed to discuss with Dad."

Mark raised his eyebrows. "If all you guys did was fuck, why would Tom have needed to tell you that was it."

Cooper froze, realizing he had been caught in his own words. "I'm going back to bed," he announced.

"No you are not," Mark said. He refused to let Cooper go. "You are not running away from this. You need to just deal with this shit right now."

"There's nothing to deal with."

"Would you stop being so fucking difficult for two fucking seconds and just let it out? You can't bullshit me! You actually started developing feelings for Tom, didn't you?"

"Mark leave me—"

"Cooper—"

"I felt something, alright?" Cooper finally yelled. He was ready to punch Mark in the face and shove him down the fucking stairs. The only reason he wasn't actually doing so yet was because his hands were shaking. "I don't know what the fuck it was but something got stirred that should have been fucking left alone! There? Are you fucking happy now?" He was practically screaming by the end of his rant.

Mark took a step back and sighed. "Feel any better?"

Cooper shook his head and leaned back against the wall. "No. Saying it doesn't change anything. He's still got Jeff." He chuckled. "Fuck, this shit is a mess." He looked at Mark. "What should I do? Should I call him?"

"Normally I would say yes but you won't be able to," Mark replied. "Tom's disappeared. Nobody's seen him since the night Patrick died."

Cooper stared at Mark in disbelief. "You're not serious."

"I am serious," Mark insisted. "Jeff's freaking out really badly. Tom's not answering his phone, he hasn't called, he hasn't come home—"

"Mark this isn't fucking funny," Cooper said as he went back into his room. He grabbed his cell phone and began dialing Tom and Jeff's number.

"Damn it boy, I ain't fucking joking!" Mark exclaimed. "I've called his cell phone a thousand times since Jeff called and told me and I haven't gotten through to him."

Cooper ignored him and waited for his call to be answered. The first ring was barely done before someone picked up. "Tommy?" Jeff said, his voice giving away the fact that he had been crying. "Tommy is that you?"

"Jeff?" Cooper said, a sick feeling creeping into his stomach. Okay, this was really not good.

Jeff burst into tears. "Cooper? Where's Tommy? Where did he go? Did Patrick get him?"

"Patrick's dead. He couldn't have gotten Tom." Cooper's words fell on deaf ears though because Jeff became a complete and total wreck. He just kept sobbing and sobbing and Cooper had to hand the phone to Mark because he couldn't handle it.

Laying back down on his bed, he buried his face into his pillow. His chest was getting really tight and breathing was becoming an issue. Tom was missing and that bothered Cooper in a way that he wished it didn't. And hearing Jeff cry like that got to him too. _Fuck, it just never ends,_ he thought to himself. _This fucked up drama is never going to fucking end_.

THE END (Or is it just the beginning?)


End file.
